Dream of Crimson
by Victoria Hughes
Summary: Weiss recieves a mission that seems like any other until they discover the targets are real, live vampires! And why can Ken feel their presence ...?
1. Part One

                It started out like any other mission.

                None of us had any idea it would become one of the worst (and strangest) experiences of our lives.

                I really, really hate it when things turn out that way.  Especially because I had to be in the center of it.

~*~*~*~

_Dream of Crimson_

A Weiss Kreuz fanfiction by Vikki

Disclaimer: The characters of Weiss Kreuz are owned by Takehito Koyasu, the luckiest _seiyuu alive.  I am only borrowing them for temporary use, and will return them relatively unharmed in the near future._

Flame Policy: If you flame me, Schuldich will enter your brain and sing "This Is The Song That Never Ends" until you go crazy and ram your head into a wall so hard you die a painful death from a cracked skull.

Notes:  This fic is AU, meaning it takes place in a universe other than the familiar WK one we all know and love. To suit this created universe, I take certain liberties with the characters of Weiss Kreuz.  Please don't hurt me.__

~*~*~*~

_                wings of gold_

_                skies of blue_

_                dreams of crimson_

_                dark red hue;_

_                falling stars_

_                they land on me -_

_                steal my heart_

_                and flee._

*   *   *

                "Ke~en . . ."

                Something was tickling my ear.  I opened one eye and groaned, "Stoppit, Youji.  I want to sleep."

                Youji lifted the feather he was tickling me with and stroked his cheek with it, smirking at me.  "C'mon, sleepyhead, Manx is here.  You stayed up too late watching soccer, didn't you?"

                I just glared at him.  "Is there anything wrong with a nap?"  Sitting up and throwing my legs over the couch I had fallen asleep in, I stretched and yawned.  "At least I don't sleep in until one o'clock in the afternoon every single day, like someone I know."

                Youji placed his hands over his heart and sighed dramatically.  "Oh, Ken!  You have hurt me right here!  How could you insult me like that?"

                I stood up, performed a grunt worthy of Aya himself, and walked right by Youji.  "That wasn't an insult; it was just the truth.  C'mon.  You said Manx was here, right?"

                "Uh-huh." Youji jogged a few steps and followed me out of my apartment, which I locked behind us, and into the cool evening air.  "She says this mission is almost beneath our notice, it's so simple.  But it concerns Persia, so you know what that means . . ."

                "Right."  I yawned again.  Youji was right; I had stayed up too late watching soccer.  But there was no way I was going to miss a match between Argentina and Brazil; their games were so exciting!  "Persia's concerned by funny things, sometimes."

                Youji had come by my apartment to wake me up; I was on the floor above him, next to Aya.  The flower shop was a three-minute walk from my front door.  We all had keys to each other's apartments back then, because Bad Things sometimes happened, and it might have been necessary to get to each other without having to knock.

                Times like that day, having keys to all the apartments came in handy because I'm a deep sleeper.  "Thanks for waking me up, Youji," I said graciously as we entered the shop.

                "No problem," Youji grinned.

                "Hello, boys."

                We both looked up to see the buxom redhead we knew only as Manx.  Omi was standing behind her, smiling his typical _genki smile, and Aya was leaning against the wall, looking annoyed as usual.  "Hello, Manx," I greeted.  Youji, on the other hand, slid by me like water and tried to wrap his arm around her shoulder.  "It's so good to see you again," he said in his sultry voice.  I recognized it from when he used it on the phone with one of his numerous dates._

                Manx smiled at him, slipped from his grip with subtle ease, and lifted a videotape in one slender hand with perfectly manicured fingernails, tapping it against her cheek.  "Shall we?"  Manx really does have a way of completely avoiding Youji's advances that's nothing short of incredible.

                Together we trooped down the spiral stairs to the basement of our shop, Manx leading the way and Aya bringing up the rear, until we reached the little lounge where our big screen TV allowed us to view each week's doomed criminals.  Omi took the tape from Manx and slid it into the VCR, informing me, "You should have stayed in the shop and helped, Ken-kun!  We were overrun by girls today.  Aya-kun had to scare them out."

                "Aya always has to scare them out," I pointed out, glancing at the silent redhead who had taken his customary place against the wall next to the stairs.  Aya gave me an icy glare, and I averted my eyes quickly and sat down on the big brown couch.  Youji sat on the other end, and Omi plopped comically into the big green easy chair next to me.  Manx stood next to the TV.

                "I told Abyssinian, Balinese, and Bombay earlier that this mission looks . . . unusually easy," Manx announced.  I felt my mind shift into 'Siberian' mode; when Manx started using our code names, I knew she was down to business.  "However, it's also creating unusual circumstances.  Let's start the video."  She pressed the 'play' button on the VCR, and our next mission was announced.

                A silhouette appeared on the screen.  "Weiss, hunters of the dark night!  Something is killing college students in an unusual fashion!"  The scene switched to a picture of the Tokyo University campus.  "Ten students have been found on the Tokyo campus in this condition."

                Again the scene changed, but this time I felt my bile churning. "Ugh!"  The image on the TV was of a shriveled body, skin stretched and dry.  The clothes that hung loosely on the . . . thing . . . identified it as once female.  It looked as if it had been mummified.  Next to me I heard Omi swallowing heavily.

                "No blood was left in the bodies.  Puncture wounds were also found on the necks of each victim."

                "Ha, a vampire wannabe," Youji joked weakly.

                I glared at him, and Omi scolded, "Youji-kun!  People are dying in this horrible fashion!"

                "Shhhh!"  Manx reprimanded us.  We obediently turned our attention back to the video.

                "Five more students were found mauled as if by a beast."  Again the scene switched to the carnage so briefly described by Persia; I looked away to keep from throwing up.  The short glimpse I got told me the body was unrecognizable, a bloody mess.  "Each body was covered with claw slashes and bite marks.  Your job is to eliminate the killers of these innocent students.

                "White Hunters!  Hunt the future of these dark beasts!"  I jerked my head back up in time to see the silhouette of Persia on the screen again before Manx pressed 'stop' and ejected the tape.

                "Well?  Despite the carnage, the fact that bodies have been left with so many signatures indicates amateurs.  This should be a simple job for you.  Are you in?"

                "I'm in," Omi answered immediately.

                "So am I," I said.

                "Of course I'm in.  The bastards are killing girls of ideal dating age!"  Youji smiled nonchalantly while Omi frowned and said warningly, "Youji-kun . . ."  I silently appreciated his indifference; the video was giving me the heebie-jeebies.  I don't appreciate bodies so ripped to shreds or dried up you can't recognize them.

                "I'm not," said Aya behind us.  I jumped slightly, having completely forgotten that he was back there.

                _Aya's refusing a mission?  But . . . why?_

                Manx looked at Aya sharply, her warm appearance giving way to a shrewd gaze, before she shrugged slightly and nodded.  "Very well."  She produced a handful of manila folders and tossed them to Omi.  "These are the college records of the fifteen dead students.  Use them wisely."

                "Manx-san, the information in the video is sort of vague," Omi opened the first manila folder and handed me the rest.  "Is there _any other information on the killers besides their victims?"_

                Manx shook her head, but smiled.  "I trust you three can handle it.  Like I said, I think this should be easy for you."  Again she glanced at Aya with a tiny frown.

                I opened the first manila folder in the stack that had been dumped in my lap.  A college girl - the same age as me - smiled out of the first page.  She had been majoring in physics until something had sucked her dry.  "We'll get them," I said, gritting my teeth.

                I have a short temper.  Knowing people like this innocent girl were dying for no reason really pissed me off almost more than it sickened me.

                "Excellent.  I'll notify Persia that you are all in.  ¥500,000 per dead body will be deposited in your bank accounts upon completion of the job."  Manx lifted her wrist and looked a thin watch.  "I have to be going now.  You boys take care." She passed between Omi and me on her way to the stairs.

                "You too, Manx-san," Omi nodded, polite to the end.  "Good night."

                "Good night," Youji and I echoed him.  Manx smiled that all-knowing smile at all of us, and then disappeared up the spiral steps.

                Youji leaned back on the sofa and examined the contents of one of the manila folders.  "Hmph.  She was really pretty, too."

                "Youji-kun!"

                "_Maa, Omicchi," Youji soothed.  "There's no harm in looking."  But then his green, catlike eyes slid to where Aya was still brooding by the base of the stairs.  "Aya, you've managed to be more sullen than usual!  What's up?"_

                Youji had a point.  Even Aya wasn't this quiet, usually.  Of course, Aya took Youji's innocent question entirely the wrong way.  "Stop poking your nose where it doesn't belong, Kudou."

                Youji lifted his eyebrows at Aya, then pursed his lips and matched his cold tone.  "Maybe you should stop assuming the worst, Fujimiya.  I'm just trying to help."  Sometimes Aya's attitude gets to all of us.

                "Then mind your own business."

                "_Maa, Aya-kun!"  Omi was on his feet and between the two before I even thought to stop them.  "Youji-kun is just trying to be friendly."_

                "Hn."  Aya turned away and stomped up the steps, and the tension in the room relaxed almost tangibly.  Youji and Aya often clashed; Youji is the epitome of laziness and indifference in every issue except missions, while Aya seems to have obsessive-compulsive disorder.

                "Well," Omi broke the silence, drawing our attention away from the steps, "we don't even know what we're looking for, much less where to look."

                "Always start with what you know, and we've got everything you could hope to know about the victims," Youji directed immediately, relaxing into the research that always preceded a mission.  When we didn't know much about a target, Youji's detective instincts kicked in.  After all, that's what he says he used to be.  "We can hopefully establish a pattern outside of them being college students at the University of Tokyo."

                "Good plan," Omi agreed, splitting the folders between the three of us.  "Look at these folders, Ken-kun."  He handed me five of them.

                I stared at the folders in my hand. "Oi! Right now?"

                Omi has this way of looking at people.  It's both commanding and pleading at the same time.  And dammit, he was doing it right then.  "Of course, Ken-kun!  We have to establish a pattern before I can search online for information!  It's not that bad . . ."

                "But the US is playing France . . . oh, whatever," I gave up when Omi's look pinned me again.

                "Thank you, Ken-kun!"  Omi grinned, and I decided he was probably thinking, _Haha!  Got you again, Ken-kun, you wimp!  Omi knows exactly how much power he wields in Weiss, and it's not fair at all.  "Then let's get started!"_

                Looking for one last chance at escape, I quickly looked at Youji, who was already flipping through the folders Omi had dumped in his lap.  "What's this, Youji?  No date tonight?"  Maybe, just maybe, if he was gone we could put off the search until tomorrow . . .

                "Is that sarcasm I detect in your voice, Kenken?"  Youji smirked at me.  "No, not tonight.  What, are you propositioning me?"

                I felt my face turn crimson.  "Youji, you - you - . . . don't call me Kenken!"  I exclaimed when no snappy comeback sprang to mind.  I can never come up with a good insult when I need to.

                But Youji just winked at me.  "Whatever you say, Kenken."

                "_'che!" I swore, glaring at the face smiling at me from the folders in my lap.  "Let's just get this over with."_

                That was a long night.

*   *   *

                Next morning found me bright and early - _too bright and early.  When my alarm clock went off at 7:00 AM sharp, I threw it at the wall.  Unfortunately, the alarm clock didn't take that so well and continued beeping at me despite repeated attempts to make it stop by the perfectly sane method of depressing the 'Snooze' button.  I ended up taking out the batteries and dumping the alarm clock.  ¥3,000 down the drain.  Damn._

                After a glass of milk and two slices of toast, I took a quick shower, changed into some old khakis and a T-shirt, and headed to the _Koneko no Sumu Ie to open shop.  I make an effort to be there a few minutes before 8 o'clock, because at 8'oclock sharp -_

                *CLONG CLONG*

                "_Hai hai, I'm coming, Aya!"  I called, finding the key to the steel cage doors on our giant master key ring.  Unlocking the cage, I lifted it high enough for Aya to stoop in, and then closed it, not bothering to lock the cage behind us.  The crime rate in Tokyo is low at any rate, outside of the corruption in the high offices (which we help to clear out, of course), and even if someone came to cause any trouble, it wasn't likely we'd have any trouble dispatching the troublemaker.  Turning to Aya, I offered, "Want a rice cake?  Omi made some again."_

                Aya turned and looked at me, and I raised my eyebrows.  Aya was _caustic.  It looked like the bad mood he'd been in the night before hadn't blown over yet.  "No, thank you."  He turned to the apron rack and snatched his apron off of it, than disappeared into one of the back rooms, pruning shears in hand._

                I decided that as long as Aya had a pointy object nearby, I didn't want to be near him.  Instead I unwrapped the watering hose and filled a sprinkling can to refresh the potted flowers around the shop.

*   *   *

                An hour later Aya seemed less deadly, so I dared to approach him.  Putting down the daffodil I had been repotting, I stood and walked over to him. "Oi, Aya . . . is something bothering you?"

                Aya gave me the same withering look he'd given Youji the night before.  "None of your damn business, Hidaka."  He turned away and continued to set up our fresh display for the day.

                I swallowed, frowned, and crossed my arms.  "Hey!  We're teammates!  If you're pissed it concerns me, too!"

                Aya put down the pot he was holding and faced me.  There's only about a nine-centimeter height difference between him and me, but Aya sure made it feel a lot bigger as he glared down at me.  "You're all going to get killed by this mission."

                I stared at him.  Had the great Fujimiya Aya, king of ice and master of indifference to his partners, admitted that, just maybe, he _cared about whether or not his fellow assassins survived?  Naturally, I made this point in a dignified manner: "Huh?"_

                "Hn."  Aya didn't condescend to repeat himself, so I picked up where he left off.

                "Why do you think we're all going to die?  You heard Manx; this should be a cinch.  Besides, I'm kinda hurting for the cash."  Thinking about the money I'd spent on the soccer balls I'd bought for all the kids I coached, I continued, "If you know something we don't, and it's gonna kill us, why don't you tell us?  Or contact Kritiker and get us kicked off this mission?  Sulking isn't gonna save us."  That earned me another glare, but now I was annoyed.  If he cared so much about our safety, why couldn't he stop just moping around and do something about it?  "I never thought you were someone to sit on your ass and do nothing, Aya."

                At that Aya's violet eyes flashed.  I'd never seen such cold eyes.  "Would you listen if I told you to back off?"  He hissed.  I stared at him in annoyed shock.  "I didn't think so.  So instead you're all going to be stubborn and get yourselves killed.  I won't stop you."

                I opened my mouth to reply, came up with a 'blank' for one agonizing moment, than said hotly, "Like you can talk about being stubborn!"

                "And _you can?"  Aya raised a cool eyebrow at me and took the wind completely out of my sails, as the saying goes.  I think I did an excellent imitation of a fish just then._

                Finally in my rather heated temper I managed to find something to say.  "We signed to the risks when we took this job, just like you, Aya!  I'm not backing out of this, because innocent people are dying.  I'm going to protect them!  And if I die doing it, well . . . I'll have a clear conscience!"  I finished righteously, nodding my determination.

                "Fine."  Aya looked hard at me for what seemed a long moment, then pursed his lips and turned back to the display.  "Whatever.  I didn't say I was going to stop you, did I?"

                I glared holes into Aya's back, but he took no notice and I began to cool down.  _Stupid Aya.  Since when did he care if we lived or died, anyway?  With a released breath, I deserted my cause with Aya and went back to repotting daffodils._

*   *   *

                That afternoon, once Omi was home from school and Youji was up and functional, Omi gave us directions for the finding of our targets. "You and Youji-kun are going to stake out the Tokyo University Library, Ken-kun, from opening at 10 o'clock in the morning until closing time at 6 o'clock at night.  Aya-kun will run the shop, and I'll help him once I get back from school."

                "Sounds like a plan," agreed Youji.

                "Sure you can get up that early?" I joked, elbowing Youji and smirking.

                Youji shot me a glare.  "Watch me, Ken!  I'll be up before you!"

                I grinned.  "Good luck!"

                "_Maa," Omi jumped for our attention.  "Do you understand?"_

                "Sure," I nodded.  "Get to University Library at 10 o'clock.  Got it."

                Omi grinned and gave me the thumbs-up sign.  "It's a shame, though, that the victims only have the Library in common," he sighed, smile faltering.  "It's such a broad horizon."

                Youji leaned on my shoulder and grinned lopsidedly, winking at me and showing pearly-white teeth.  "Don't forget their ages!  All of the victims are between 19 and 20.  Kenken here will be perfect bait."

                "Hey!  Don't make me bait!"  I protested, sliding my shoulder out from under his elbow.  "I'm the Hunter, not the Hunted!"  I paused, then added, "And stop calling me Kenken!"

                Youji grinned again and produced a cigarette, which I snatched from his fingers.  "Hey!  Give that back!"

                With great pleasure I ground the unlit cigarette under my foot.  "You're not allowed to smoke in the Library, Youji.  Can you go that long without a cigarette?"  Omi snickered.  He shares my view about cigarettes - namely, that they're disgusting and the equivalent of a slow death.

                "_Kuso," Youji griped, giving us both a dirty look before pulling his apron over his head. "Well, are you guys working in the shop today or not?"_

                I grinned at Omi, who called cheerfully, "Of course, Youji-kun," and tied his own apron on.  We knew when we won an argument.

                But one thing still nagged at me.  "Omi . . . am I bait?"  I asked.

                Omi just smiled at me.  "Only if you have to be, Ken-kun.  Watch your back, _ne?"_

                Shrugging, I stepped out of the storage room and back into the shop.  "_Aa . . . always watch your back," I murmured._

                Sometimes being part of the point team really sucks.

*   *   *    

Amazingly, Youji _did wake up before me, and he happily announced the fact by ringing my doorbell at 6:30 AM relentlessly.  I struggled awake, opened the door and told him to piss off, then took a shower.  I'm not a morning person until I've taken my shower._

                Youji enjoyed teasing me about my failure to get up before him as we strolled to the library, and I suppose it was fair; after all, Omi and I had pretty well crushed him with the news about cigarettes.  I did get in a parting shot by making a big show of checking him for the damned things.

                Tokyo University is a sea of tranquil calm in the bustle of a huge city.  Even though exams are a big deal, the students don't seem quite as wound up as businessmen.  Of course, I never went to college, so what do I know?  I've tried asking Aya what it's like (he attended one for a year, or at least that's what Manx says), but that's something like asking a brick wall to talk to you.  So, I found myself walking into the largest library within 20 blocks of my apartment feeling like a total idiot.

                "Youji?  Don't you think we'll look silly just loitering around?"  I asked as we sauntered towards the nonfiction section, glancing around nervously.

                "So?  Find something to do," Youji grinned at me.  "I've already got an idea."

                "Youji, _no.  You are __not flirting with every girl in the library!"  I hissed, feeling it necessary to take over Omi's role in his absence._

                Youji gave me a hurt look. "I wasn't even thinking of it!"  he said indignantly, though his eye twinkled when he said it.  "I'm researching psychology.  Why don't you research Japanese History?"

                I huffed annoyance I didn't feel anymore and raked a hand through my bangs.  "Oh, whatever.  Just call if you see anything funny."

                Youji tapped his ear in response; we were wearing short-range mikes in our ears that allowed us to communicate from distances no greater than 500 meters.  "Will do, Siberian," he told me with a gentler smile before twisting slender hips to face the shelves.  "Hmmm.  _Erotica sounds like a good topic."_

                "Youji!"  I cried, scandalized. Youji watched me from the corner of his eye; I practically fled to the children's section.  _He can be so . . . so frustrating!  I thought furiously as I sat in a chair far too small for my own good.  __He just likes seeing me lose my cool.  I spent the next several minutes wishing either that I had better control over my emotions, or that Youji didn't have such a weird sense of humor._

                I was brought out of my pit of self-despair by a tugging at my sleeve.  "Oji-san?"  I looked down at a little boy.  He smiled at me and plaintively held out a book.  "Will you read this to me?"  I blinked and took the book from him, reading the title to myself: _The Tale of Fisherman Taro._

                A young woman's voice made me look up.  "Oh, Uji, leave the poor boy alone!"  The woman grabbed the boy's arm and began to pull him away, apologizing profusely.  "I'm sorry.  He's still so rude.  He ought to know better than to ask complete strangers things like -"

                "Oh, no, it's fine," I protested, interrupting her.  "I'd love to read it to him."  And I _did want to read it.  The mother of Uji needn't know that it was perfect cover for my stakeout.  "Here.  Want to sit in Uncle Ken's lap?"  I offered, patting my thighs for emphasis._

                Uji looked overjoyed by the offer.  He jumped up into my arms before his mother could protest, and in a few minutes he was completely wrapped in the life of a fisherman taken to a mythical underwater palace.  I was not so absorbed and surreptitiously scanned the library for strange vampire wannabes as I read.

                After _The Tale of Fisherman Taro Uji pulled out another fairy tale for me to read, then another.  Pretty soon I'd gathered a collection of about 7 kids all listening raptly to __Yosaku and the Goddess, while delighted parents looked on or moved to areas of their own interest.  For my own part, I was having a blast.  I love kids; I love making them happy._

                Of course, it couldn't last.

                In the middle of my sixth book I glanced around the library in time to see Youji across the room, leaning over a seated busty woman with big eyes and dark hair.  At first I dismissed it; not even the embarrassing topic of 'erotica' could hold his interest for long, not when he could have the real thing.  But each time I glanced at Youji to make sure it didn't go too far, it looked less and less like Youji was doing the flirting and more and more like the woman was enticing him.  She gave him smoldering looks while Youji grinned and rubbed the back of his neck.  _Looks like Youji's finally met his match, I thought with a grin, returning my attention to the book.  When I looked up again, though, Youji was walking out of the library arm-in-arm with the woman!_

                Now Youji is a jerk that likes teasing me and who can't be serious about a damn thing, but he would _never just desert a job like that.  Something was seriously wrong.  Hastily I put down the book and lifted Uji off of my lap, making up an excuse about missing classes or something like that before I speed-walked out of the library, following Youji's footsteps._

                By the time I was out of the library Youji and the girl were sauntering away in the direction of some close-set brick buildings on the campus.  I followed, running as fast as my legs would take me.

                My first inclination was to run up to Youji, punch him, then drag him back to the library, but something pulled me up short when I neared the couple.  I slowed my steps and stared at the girl Youji was with.  She _looked perfectly normal, if impossibly perfect; she had beautiful dark brown eyes and silky black hair, smooth Japanese features, an ideal figure, and little height.  But as soon as I got within 30 meters of her, she __felt wrong.  It was like some indefinable intention of evil hovered around her._

                I thought I was going nuts.  I'd never _felt somebody before.  Sensed them, yes, but that's really just hearing or seeing something so slight it doesn't quite register.  Anyone can train themselves to sense others.  This feeling was like an entirely new sixth sense, and whatever it was, it made me recoil and try to find a hiding place until the danger had safely passed.  I scuttled behind a tree – an unarguably silly hiding place – and waited until Youji and the girl had slipped into the alley between two campus buildings._

                My sense of foreboding increased.  I sneaked towards the alley and whispered, "Youji?"  I hoped he would answer me; after all, the earpieces were still operating.  No response.  "Come on, Youji!  Answer me!"  I whispered more harshly.  Still no response.  I pursed my lips, swallowing a curse word, and huddled at the entrance of the alley, poking my head around the corner just far enough to see who was in there with one eye.

                Before I even looked I could feel more people than Youji and his companion.  Sure enough, I saw two others.  One was a tall blonde man with sharp blue eyes.  He was muscled, well built, and perfectly proportioned.  The other was a European woman: pale, tall, and busty.  Her brown hair floated in loose curls around her face, and her eyes were green orbs much like Youji's own.

                Youji was standing next to the Japanese woman, looking as if he were in a trance.  His eyes were unfocused and a silly smile creased his face.  "Youji?"  I whispered again.  There was no response.

                I held my breath when the Japanese girl scanned the area, her eyes sweeping past the alleyway entrance.  I pulled back before she saw me, then peered in again.  She was holding Youji's arm possessively and glancing from the blonde man to the European woman.  "How's this one, Stacey?" she asked in a sultry voice.

                _Stacey?  It was such a normal name._

                Stacey - the European girl, of course - stepped forward and ran her finger down Youji's cheek and under his chin in a possessive manner.  I shuddered.

                Youji giggled like a schoolgirl.  I cringed.

                "He's pretty, Miki."  Stacey smiled.  "I like him.  Can I have a taste?"

                _A **what!?!**_

                "Just a little one. He's mine."  Miki grinned, showing her teeth.  And - I swear I'm telling the truth - she had fangs.  My throat went dry as Stacey chuckled, revealing similar fangs, then bent her head to Youji's neck as if to kiss him there.

                At that moment I knew that these were the targets, and they were about to make Youji one of those dried husks I'd seen two nights before.  Jumping up, I shouted, "Youji!  Run!"

                I didn't exactly plan my entrance too well, and I paid for it.  Youji didn't respond, but Miki, Stacey, and the scary buff guy - I wasn't quite ready to admit that they might be real, live vampires - all reacted pretty quickly.  Miki drew Youji to her chest, causing him to collapse unceremoniously to his knees; Stacey put two long, sharp nails to his neck.  The man rushed me, his large frame bearing down on me insanely fast.  He cocked a fist, and I panicked and ducked.

                Luckily I avoided the fist.  Unfortunately I didn't avoid his knee, which drove itself firmly into my gut.  Seeing stars, I collapsed on the ground and groaned before being seized by a coughing fit.

                "Well, well, Miki.  Looks like your new pet had a friend," said a deep, honeyed voice over my head.  It had to be the guy.

                "Oh, dear.  More for us, then," Stacey said cheerfully.  Slender fingers fisted in my hair and dragged my head back, forcing me to look up.  "Look at me."

                Automatically I locked gazes with Stacey, intending to give her an Aya-worthy glare, but as soon as I looked into her eyes I could feel myself slipping away from reality.  It was bizarre and terrifying.  I struggled to keep contact with my life, my situation, my body, but I was flying away as if my brain was no longer attached to the rest of me.

                I was floating in a dream, devoid of feeling.  Here there was no pleasure, no pain.  Nothing.  It was a great nothingness, or maybe everything at once.  There was only one thing tangible - Stacey's voice.  She stroked me with it, and I was drawn to her.

                _It's okay . . . let me have you, just for a little while . . . Just be happy.  Relax.  Here you are safe.  You won't have pain.  I can save you from that._

_                Nobody can save me from pain.  It was the first coherent thought I had and I clung to it desperately, somehow feeling that it was a lifeline to unknown safety.  I drew up all the horribly painful things I could think of - Kase, leaving the J-league, becoming an assassin.  I wanted the pain; I welcomed it as a stark contrast to the nothingness that had enveloped me._

                Suddenly I was in my body again, staring into a pair of beautiful green eyes.  I tore my eyes from Stacey's instantly, breathing hard.  Was that what Miki had done to Youji . . .?

                Stacey made a fierce feral sound deep in her throat.  "I can't roll him under.  What is this!?"

                "Never mind that.  There's more than one way to skin a cat," Miki stepped into my line of vision, one hand on her hips and a look of superiority on her face.  "Besides, we need to hurry this up - as much as I like to play with my food."

                I couldn't believe I was listening to this conversation.  Desperately I tried to think of a way to escape and save Youji at the same time, but strategy was never my strong point.  To top it off, I was panicky and trembling after my recent out-of-body experience.

                "There's something wrong with this one, though," observed the man, poking me as if I was some meat for sale in the grocery store.

                "Either eat him or kill him, it doesn't matter," Miki hissed.  She tugged Youji back to his feet and attached herself to his arm again.  "I've already got a meal."  Youji grinned ecstatically.

                "Very well," Stacey sighed and looked down at me.  I was careful to keep my eyes off of hers.  "It's a shame to ruin such a pretty boy."

                She didn't seem very ashamed, though, because next she grabbed me by the neck, hauled me back to my feet with inhuman strength, and slammed my head against the brick wall of the alleyway.  I saw stars.  Again she slammed my head against the wall, and again; my vision blackened and bursts of blinding pain paralyzed me.  I was vaguely aware that I was clutching Stacey's arm in a death grip with both hands and Miki was chuckling.  As my skull struck the wall a fifth time, I could feel myself losing my grip on consciousness.  Feeling that if I let myself go something terrible would happen, I struggled against the blackness.  It was to no avail; I was slipping away.

                "_Fuuka no Ken!"_

                Suddenly wind cut through the air like knives; Stacey and Miki cried out in pain, and the grip on my throat loosened.  I collapsed to the ground, clutching the back of my head. My hands became sticky with blood.  As the sounds of battle crashed in my ears, I finally could hold on no longer and slipped into the blessed void of unconsciousness.  My last coherent thought was, _Aya's voice . . .?_

*   *   *

Author's notes:  Well … this story isn't actually divided into chapters.  This is part one.  Part two is finished, and so is a section of part three.  There will probably be many parts, though.  It's quite involved, and maybe I'll convert it from a fanfiction and make it into a stand-alone story so I can publish it.

Do you like it?  Hate it?  Tell me!  I love reviews.  ^^x


	2. Part Two

_Dream of Crimson_ – part two

By Vikki

Disclaimer:  Not mine.  No profit.  Please don't sue.

Flame policy:  "You flame, I kill." – Ran Fujimiya

*   *   *

            _I was sinking in the deep blue sea when I opened my eyes, falling peacefully to the inky blackness below, when I opened my eyes.  Below me the clear blue faded to darkness.  Above me the sun winked and bobbled, distorted by the gentle waves of the surface._

_            As I fell the pressure increased.  My head felt as if it were being squeezed in a vice._

_            There was blood in the water.  It was my blood; it was because of the pressure._

_            I looked up at the sun and its fractured reflection and reached towards it.  Maybe if I reached high enough, someone would rescue me._

_            Reaching . . . reaching . . ._

_            Reaching . . ._

            "Ken-kun?"

            I awoke to the sensation of having my outstretched hand grasped firmly.  "Omi?" I croaked in reply.

            "Ken-kun!  You're awake!"

            Letting the hand I had extended fall back to the bed, I cracked my eyes open and immediately regretted it.  My head exploded with pain.  "Owwwww . . ." I moaned, reaching up to grasp my head.  My fingers met the rough gauze of bandages wrapped around my skull.  "What happened?"

            "Aya-kun came back to the shop dragging Youji-kun behind him and with you over his shoulder," Omi answered, his voice thick with worry.  I struggled to focus on his face and saw the worry reflected there, too.  "He told me to take care of you, then disappeared with Youji-kun.  I don't know what else happened, but Aya-kun was pretty upset."

            _I'll bet, I thought miserably.  Unfortunately Omi's answer didn't answer any of my questions at all, except that Aya must have been the one I heard before I fainted.  I shut my eyes and sighed._

            "Are you okay, Ken-kun? What happened to you and Youji-kun?"

            "Um . . ." I paused.  How did I tell Omi that we had been attacked by vampires and Aya had apparently saved us with magic?

            I heard the door open.  Snapping my eyes open, I propped myself up on my elbows and ignored Omi's protests against my sitting up as Aya walked into the room.  He looked annoyed, but there were dark circles under his eyes and his hairline was damp.  It was almost as if he were exhausted by something.  "Omi, go away," he said, voice flat.

            Omi obeyed quietly at the threatening, demanding tone, throwing me a questioning glance as he went out the door, and Aya took Omi's place on the old, squeaky rolling chair next to the bed.  For a very long moment we just looked at each other, until Aya said, "I warned you."

            And right then I felt it - the same feeling I'd had at the library when I got too near Miki and saw Stacey.  It derailed my train of thought completely, and I found myself blurting, "Why didn't you tell me you weren't human!?"

            Oh, I wanted those words back so badly.  Damn my stupid impulsiveness!  Aya's features turned downright icy; I think he could have killed me in cold blood right then.  "What?" He asked ominously.

            "Nothing," I answered immediately, my voice catching on the word.  I was lying; I hate liars.  "Do you know what we saw today?" I asked to cover myself, trying desperately to keep my voice from trembling as I recounted the day's harrowing events.  "Vampires.  Real ones.  They were going to kill Youji, or whatever the hell they do.  Make him a –" here I was forced to take a deep breath to keep from sounding hysterical – "a dried husk, like the video.  I didn't think they were real, but they are.  They did something funny to Youji, and he was really screwed up by it.  Is he okay now?"  I was babbling.  With effort I clamped my mouth shut.

            Aya let my slip slide for the moment. "Youji is fine."

            "How did you snap him out of it?"  I said.

            Again Aya looked at me sharply.  "How do you know?" he asked.

            He didn't have to be specific.  I knew what he meant - how did I know he wasn't human, and how did I know he healed Youji.  I wanted to erase this whole conversation and forget it occurred.  "I just . . . know," I said lamely, fiddling with the sheets.  "I'm right, aren't I?" I asked.

            Aya didn't answer me directly.  "Bel'uah won't be happy," he observed under his breath, before saying, "Call Manx and tell her you can't do the job.  Do you believe me now?  I told you that you were in over your head."

            I should have agreed and dropped the mission.  I should have told Youji and Omi that this wasn't worth the money; surely the Tokyo police could handle a case that was so 'easy' according to Manx.

            Damn my stubborn streak.

            "We committed to this mission.  I don't care what Youji and Omi do; I'm seeing this through to the end," I said defiantly.  "And I don't care if I'm up against fifty million vampires complete with witches and necromancers!  I'll finish the mission or die trying - like always."

            Aya made a frustrated noise and raked a pale hand through his red hair.  I'd never noticed before how pale he was.  "_Baka," he hissed in his deep voice.  "You obviously don't understand at all how dangerous this is."_

            "And you do?!"  I asked, temper rising.  "What makes you the almighty god of understanding!?  How come _you know what's best for me, and I don't!?"_

            "Because I know these creatures far better than you do," Aya answered, voice calm, low and quiet.  "So shut up and lay down before you hurt yourself worse than you already have, Hidaka."

            "How do you know about them?" I demanded.  "What makes you special?"

            "Shut up." Aya's voice cut through my rant like a cold knife.  "That's not important."

            _Sure it is, I wanted to say, but I wisely held my tongue.  Aya's eyes threatened instant death if I argued.  Instead I glared at him and changed the subject.  "So . . . what did you do to those vampires, anyway?"_

            Aya's sharp gaze continued to pierce me.  "What do you mean?"

            "Oh for crying out loud, don't play dumb!  I heard your voice when I fainted," I accused him directly.  "You said something about a 'wind sword' and Stacey and Miki screamed like they were hurt." Aya's eyebrows arched delicately at my using names for the vampires, but I ignored him.  "What did you do?"

            For a long moment Aya just looked at me while I jutted out my jaw, crossed my arms, and glared back.  Then he suddenly closed his eyes and said flatly, "You're probably about to find out."

            The phone rang.  I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound, and had another heart attack when I realized Aya had predicted the phone call in his own cryptic way. 

            "I'll get it!" called Omi from outside the room.  The phone rang a second time, accompanying Omi's pounding feet on hardwood floor, then came the sound of the phone being lifted out of its hook hastily.  "_Hai, moshi moshi," Omi greeted breathlessly.  "__Gomen kudasai.  Hai.  Hai, shikashi . . . Sou desu.  Hai.  Ja ne."  Omi hung up the phone with a click, and there was a long moment of absolute silence.  I frowned slightly and Aya just looked at me with his unnerving eyes._

"Aya-kun!" Omi called suddenly.  There was a note of confusion in his voice.  "It's someone called Bethany." He stumbled over the foreign name.  "She says it's an emergency, and to come right away."

            Aya gave me a disgruntled look, than poked a thin, callused finger at me.  "If you want to know," he said darkly, "get up and come with me."  With that, he rose and strode out of the room without even glancing back.

*   *   *

            Fifteen minutes later found me in Aya's car being driven down the road at a furious pace by an irate Aya.  Omi had nagged me for a full five minutes about the inherent dangers of trying to move with a concussion like mine and I had developed a severe headache.  Thank the heavens for asprin.  After changing into some cleaner clothes – my shirt was stained with my blood – and removing the bandages around my head, we had headed out the door and into Tokyo's business district.

            Neither of us broke the absolute silence, simmering in our own thoughts.  I was annoyed with Aya for being so secretive.  I had just run into vampires for the first time ever and barely escaped with my life, and Aya obviously knew far more than he was telling.  Didn't I have a right to know what I was up against?

            The car slowed and Aya parked in front of a large office building not unlike the hundreds of other towers of Tokyo.  I followed him in, feeling vaguely intimidated by the huge ornate lobby and the echo of our shoes on the marble floor.  I felt remarkably out of place in my sneakers, khakis, and black T-shirt.

            We crossed the lobby to the reception desk; the secretary looked up at Aya and smiled.  "You're expected.  Brought a friend?"

            Aya shrugged indifferently.  "The usual place?"

            "Of course.  Oh, she's got a new bodyguard; he'll definitely expect some ID."

            "Thank you."  Aya nodded curtly to the secretary and passed her on the way to the elevators.  I followed him into one; elevator music played softly in the background, and Aya punched the button for the eighty-first floor.

            The silence between us stretched, the music only playing on my tensions.  Finally I blurted, "Who's Bethany?"

            "You'll see," he answered.

            I fidgeted and waited impatiently for the numbers over the door to reach "81", the quiet music scalding my ears.  Finally the gold-tinted doors opened and Aya led the way down the brightly lit hall and into an airy reception room.  Another secretary looked up at us from her desk, and a burly-looking man approached from his apparent post at the bark oaken doors to the right.

            "You are . . .?" he demanded, looking me up and down and giving Aya the same treatment.

            Aya dropped his driver's license into the bodyguard's line of vision. "He's with me," he explained while I fumbled for my own license, unsure if I had brought it.

            The bodyguard examined Aya's ID, then grunted consent.  "But he stays here."  The guard pointed an accusing finger at me.

            I opened my mouth to protest when Aya held out a hand in a silencing gesture.  He looked to the oaken doors, and I followed his gaze.

            A petite _gaijin woman had appeared in the doorway.  She looked to be at least a decade older than Aya; her close-cut brown hair nicely framed sky blue eyes that were set off by a red business suit.  Reading glasses rested on her small nose, making her look scholarly and wise, but not intimidating._

            No, she did not look intimidating, but as her eyes fell on me I felt an oppressive sense of power settle on my shoulders.  Suddenly the huge reception room didn't seem big enough; I was tempted to ask someone to open the windows and let the stiff breeze carry some of the heavy air outside.

            The woman spoke to the bodyguard in English, and the man glared at me one last time before stepping back to his post.  She then beckoned to Aya and me with an open hand.  "Please, come in," she said in flawless Japanese.  "You're both expected."  Again her sharp eyes settled on me.

            Aya seemed unperturbed, and I wondered if maybe I was experiencing another effect of my newly discovered sixth sense.  We followed the woman into an expansive office with walls covered with pictures and paintings and awards, a wide oaken desk that matched the door with a high-backed cushion chair, and two deep guest chairs.  Aya halted just inside the door, and I paused behind him, not daring to venture any action on my own.  The woman closed the door behind us, then walked briskly to stand in front of her desk, manicured fingernails running down the carved edges.  "Good evening, gentlemen," she greeted us.  Her attention then shifted to me alone. "My name is Bethany Gramm.  Please call me Bethany."

            I bowed to her, not knowing what else to do.  "Thank you.  Er . . . my name is Ken Hidaka.  Good evening."

            Bethany smiled an approving smile.  "It's a pleasure.  I have some questions for you.  But first, down to business . . ." Her gaze went to Aya.

            Aya stood slumped in front of me, which was something that I rarely saw because his posture was usually flawless.  His features were as impassive as ever, but he seemed somehow subdued.  His manner was one of grudging respect.  When Bethany's eyes fixed on him, he answered, "_Hai?" without a trace of ice in his voice.  Needless to say, I went into mild shock._

            Bethany's voice was steel cloaked in velvet.  "You know why I called you here.  I am forced to cite you for unauthorized daytime use of magic, using an _exorcism circle" – her voice stressed the words with distaste – "and engaging a werewolf in battle when you well know that werewolves are officially neutral.  I am disappointed in you."_

            I had no comprehension of the charges, but Aya's jaw muscles clenched as she rattled them off.  "_Hai," he gritted out._

            Bethany was untouched.  "I have not yet determined an appropriate punishment.  Until I have decided, I am suspending your blood rites.  A further infraction may result in incarceration, and I will not bail you out," she warned.  "Have I made myself clear?"

            "_Hai."  Aya made his hands into fists at his sides and scowled fiercely.  Bethany blinked serenely at him, completely unaffected by a look that usually sent chills up my spine.  I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest._

            Bethany looked at me and a smile crossed her lips, crinkling the skin around her eyes.  "You don't understand, do you?"

            "Uh, no, not really," I apologized.  "Sorry."

            "All that is important for you to know now is that your friend Aya is a highly capable magician, and I hold sway over him."  Her smile faded, and she turned to walk around her desk and sit down in the plush leather chair.  "I know you must have lots of questions about today's events.  Ask me anything about them; then I will ask you some questions."

            That last part sounded ominous, and I bit my lip, scowling in thought.  Something occurred to me.  "Hey, how do you know about the attack in the first place?"

            Bethany's smile was cryptic.  "That's not important.  Next question."

            Aya had answered with those exact words to a similar question, I remembered.  "How do you know Aya?  What do you have to do with him?"

            Bethany closed her eyes and shook her head, leaning forward to put her elbows on her desk.  "Hidaka-san, I am not here to answer questions about myself.  I will answer your questions pertaining to the incident today."

            _Okay, I thought.  __What's the big secret?  But even I know when to quit, so instead I asked, "So, were those people really vampires?"_

            "Yes – well, two of them were."  Bethany paused, probably for dramatic effect.  "The man was a werewolf."

            "Is that the werewolf Aya attacked?"

            "Yes."

            "He was trying to kill Youji and me.  Why are you, uh . . . 'suspending Aya's blood rites', or whatever you said, for protecting us?"

            Bethany looked at me for a long moment, appearing to consider me.  I stubbornly crossed my arms and insisted, "Well?"

            "That extends into a great deal of regulations that I'd rather not get into," Bethany said, dismissing my allegation.  I thought it was an elaborate dodge.  "Simply put, Aya broke a rule that has long been established between him and me.  Again, it has little effect on your life, so it should not concern you.  Next question."

            I licked my lips before continuing.  Bethany was a constantly unnerving woman.  "The vampires did something to Youji.  What was that?"

            "Oh, that."  Bethany seemed almost amused by the question.  "They like to call it 'rolling the victim under'.  I suppose the layman's term for it would be 'hypnosis', but that's not entirely accurate.  Hypnosis takes the mind to another time or place.  'Rolling under' is more like a sedative, or a drug.  They could skin you alive and make you love it."

            I shivered involuntarily at the thought.  Taking a deep breath, I continued.  "Are the vampires dead?"

            "No.  And they are not the only vampires in the area.  Nor is that man the only werewolf."  She pierced me with her gaze.  "I would be on the lookout, Hidaka-san.  Which brings me to the other reason I asked you here.  Have I answered your questions to your satisfaction?"

            _No, I thought fiercely, but held my tongue.  "As close as you're willing."_

            Bethany actually chuckled, and something in that laugh made me feel that Bethany was not only powerful but also very dangerous.

            "Good.  Then let me ask the questions now."  Bethany pressed her fingertips against one another and leaned forward on her desk, hiding the lower half of her face from view.  "Hidaka-san, did you know that those vampires were not human when you first saw them?"

            I nodded slowly.  "Yes."

            "How do you know?"

            I tried to think of a good explanation and came up empty-handed.  "I just know.  I don't understand how."

            "Just as you 'knew' Aya isn't human?" There was a touch of a taunt in her words.

            "Just as I know _you're not human," I retorted without thinking._

            Bethany tilted her head and lifted pencil-thin eyebrows in surprise before smiling cryptically.  "I see."  She lowered one hand to her desk and picked up a pen before leaning back in her chair again, crossing one leg, and reclining comfortably.  She pressed down on the pen cap with her thumb, making it click into place.  "The vampire named Stacey – didn't she try to roll you under?"  Bethany pushed back up on the pen cap, and it made a popping noise.

            "Yes."  I wondered where these questions were going.

            _Click.  She pushed the cap back into place.  "What did it feel like?"  __Pop.  The pen cap was lifted again._

            I tried to recall the floating sensations and found that they were fuzzy memories.  "I don't remember too well."  _Click.  "It was like I had left my body, and there wasn't anything left except Stacey's voice." __Pop._

            "Did it feel good, bad, or like nothing at all?" _Click._

            "It was . . . pleasant."  I remembered being completely devoid of worries or fear and sighed. _Pop.  "But I'm glad she didn't succeed, I guess."_

            _Click.  "Yes . . . how did you break out of that?" __Pop._

            "I . . . I just remembered who I was.  What I was."  _Murderer. __Click went Bethany's pen__.  "And then I was back in my body staring at Stacey."  __Pop._

            Bethany nodded slowly.  "Interesting."  _Click._

            I began to feel as if the _clicking and __popping of the pen was like grains of sand falling in an hourglass, ticking off hours of my life.  I was tired, drained; all I wanted was to get away from this high-rise with its creepy employees and fall asleep in my own bed.  My headache was back full-force.  "Are we done?"_

            _Pop.  "No.  I have one more question.  How did you know Aya had exorcised Kudou-san?" __Click._

            So that was what Aya had used the exorcism circle for – whatever an exorcism circle was.  "I didn't.  Aya said Youji was fine, so I figured Aya had done something to him."

            _Pop.  "Why did you figure that?"_

            The pen was driving me nuts; I felt as if I could fall asleep on the spot.  "I thought you said you only had one more question for me."

            "I was wrong.  Sometimes an answer brings to mind more questions."  _Click._

            I sighed.  "Because I knew Aya did something to the vampires.  I heard him before I went unconscious.  Besides, Youji wasn't okay when Aya took him home – at least that's what Omi said."  I paused.  "And I knew Aya wasn't human."  Suddenly it occurred to me that Bethany had known that little detail without my telling her.  That disturbing thought served to wake me up a little.  "Why do you want to know all this?"  _Pop._

            "Your chance to ask questions is past, Hidaka-san."  _Click.  "Are you feeling well?"_

            I blinked at the sudden turn in conversation.  "Tired, I guess . . ." I temporized.  "Why?" _Pop._

            "Never mind." _Click._

            I couldn't take it anymore; the air was heavy and the pen's clicking filled my ears.  "Would you stop it?" I finally blurted.  "That pen is driving me crazy!"

            Suddenly my exhaustion disappeared, and Bethany blinked as if startled.  The pen slipped from her grasp.  "Oh!" she gasped, composing herself quickly.  "I'm sorry."

            That was too weird for my tastes.  Praying she was done, I asked, "Is that all?"

            "For now."  Bethany's calm, poised atmosphere was back.  "However, Hidaka-san, I advise you to be on the lookout for further vampire attacks.  You are hardly out of danger."

            _Great, I thought.  "Then tell me how to defend myself," I demanded.  "How can I be ready?"_

            Bethany seemed pleased that I wanted her advice.  "Aya knows what to look for, and so do you, it would seem," she said.  "All I can tell you is a vampire fears nothing except God.  Remember that."

            I didn't find that very helpful, but Bethany didn't seem too willing to dole out more information.  I wasn't about to stick around and try to pry it out of her.  "Can we go?"

            "If you wish."  Bethany rose and walked around her desk, passing me on her way to the door.  "It has been a pleasure to meet you."  She turned to Aya, and I suddenly became aware of his presence again as I realized he hadn't said a word during our entire exchange.  "Aya, come see me again sometime this week and bring Hidaka-san with you."

            "_Hai."  Aya turned on his heel and walked out the door.  I followed him, feeling just as confused as before._

            Bethany's eyes bored holes into my back until we were on the elevator and out of sight.

*   *   *

Author's notes:  First off, a huge thanks to all the wonderful reviewers out there!

Several of you have noticed that this bears some similarity to the Anita Blake series.  I must now confess – I have never read them.  However, I have read _Acherontia Atropos_, an excellent Gundam Wing fanfiction based off the Anita Blake series, centering around Duo Maxwell. I encourage everyone to read it.  Any and all similarities to that fic are my fault.  If Katsu no Miko reads this, I ask her to think of it as a tribute to her excellent work.  Besides, I'll be moving away from the similarities between our works soon …  you can find it here:  http://www.katsudon.net/gwfic/atropos.html  Set aside an afternoon to read it, and be very afraid of things that go bump in the night afterwards!

Besides that fanfiction, most of my influence lies in _The Vampire Chronicles_ by Ann Rice.  This is an excellent series centering from the point of view of several vampires who constantly struggle with what they are, providing sufficient angst to run the Weiss Kreuz series several times over.  Again, I encourage everyone to read it, starting with either _The Vampire Armand_ or _Interview with the Vampire_.  Go Lestat!  Go Louis!  Whooo!  Okay, I'm fine now.

Thanks again, please keep reading!  ^^x  I love reviews … I make shrines to all my reviewers … ^^x;;;


	3. Part Three

_Dream of Crimson – _Part III

By Vikki

Disclaimer: It belongs to Takehito Koyasu, not me. Please don't sue, I am broke.

Flame Policy: Do you remember the OVAs? When Ken gets that really crazed look while he's killing that man? Yeah. That's the Ken that lives with me. Draw your own conclusions.

* * *

                "Aya, how come you didn't say anything while we were in there? What's Bethany-san got on you?" I asked as we passed into the cool nighttime air and walked to Aya's car.

                ". . ." Aya scowled at me before unlocking the car door.

                That was the typical Aya I knew. Feeling slightly more assured that the world wasn't spinning off its axis I shrugged indifferently and slid into the passenger's seat. Obviously I wasn't going to get any answers from Aya tonight, so instead I sat back and contemplated Bethany.

                The woman unnerved me. What was she? Inwardly I was quaking the same way I had after my up-close-and-personal encounter with Stacey. She had been trying to do something to me with that damned pen, too, though I was completely stumped as to what, exactly.

                Surprisingly, it was Aya who broke the silence in the car. "Do you know how to fire a gun?"

                I jumped and spun to face Aya. His eyes were focused on the road. Anyone would have thought he had just asked me to buckle my seat belt or something. "Uh . . ." I said brilliantly. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

                Actually, it had been over a year since I'd touched a gun. After I nearly got mugged during a trip to America as a J-League goalie, my coach insisted I get a gun for self-defense. I learned how to shoot it, of course, but then I'd been kicked out of the League and ended up in Weiss. Guns had been too loud for assassination. Even the telltale sound of a silencer is sometimes too much. I had gotten rid of the gun and ironically started killing after it was gone.

                "Good." Aya's jaw tightened before he continued, "Buy one. Get silver bullets."

                _Silver bullets . . .?_ "Why?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at him.

                "There are two ways to kill a vampire." Aya turned on his left blinker and changed lanes. "The famous one is to drive a wooden stake through its heart. Another way is to destroy the head and chest cavity. Only silver bullets can do this amount of damage to a blood vampire from great range."

                "Why silver bullets?" I couldn't help asking.

                "Silver is the bane of a blood vampire's existence." We were nearing the apartment complex we lived in. "It is deadly to them."

                It sounded as plausible as anything else I'd heard in the last twelve hours, though I was beginning to mentally question the sudden volunteering of information. "Okay," I agreed as Aya parked the car. "Whatever you say."

                We didn't say anything else to each other that night; it was a lot later than I had thought. I went to my apartment, stripped down to my boxers, and took two asprin before flopping into my bed.

                Sleep was a long time in coming. When it finally came it brought nightmares.

* * *

                _Aya stood over a dead body, katana in hand, chest heaving. He was covered in blood, stained a malevolent crimson hue. I didn't know if the blood was his own or his victim's._

_                Purple eyes met my own; they were lifeless. There was evil intent in those eyes. I tried to cry out, but my voice would not come._

_                The blood on Aya's clothes came to life. It sprang up towards me like a viper, into my throat and up my nose, cutting off my air. Aya began to laugh, but someone else's voice sprang from his mouth – a voice I could not identify. I could not breathe. I was dying._

_                The last thing I saw was the flicker of a black-waxen candle._

                I sat up in my bed gasping for air and covered in sweat. Clutching my bare chest, I struggled to catch my breath. The images of the dream were fresh in my mind.

                The phone rang.

                I picked up my watch with a trembling hand: 4:30 AM. Instantly irritable and feeling sick to my stomach, I struggled to my feet and stumbled to the kitchen. I reached the phone on its third ring. "Who is it?" I demanded tiredly.

                "Well, good morning to you too," answered the voice on the other end. It was a woman's voice, sultry and lustful, but I didn't recognize it.

                "What do you want?" I asked, ignoring her affronted tone.

                "Aren't we the cold one today?" the woman giggled. "I thought that was Aya's job."

                "Look," I snapped, waking up a bit. "_You_ called _me_ at four-thirty in the morning for no apparent reason. If you don't give me a good reason to listen to you insult me in the next thirty seconds, I'm hanging up the phone and trying to salvage what's left of the night."

                "They were right, you are short-tempered," she answered, voice bemused.

                I bit down on my tongue, then told her, "I'm hanging up now," and began to do just that.

                "No, wait," she said, voice suddenly urgent and devoid of the teasing tone she had used earlier. "I need to talk to you."

                "Then talk," I said in my best imitation-Aya voice.

                "_Atashi no namae wa Ryuuki Yumi_," she said quietly. "Please call me Yumi. I know all about you, Ken Hidaka – you and your friends."

                So I had been woken up in the middle of the night to confront a stalker. It was my turn to be amused. More likely than not, it was one of the girls who frequented the flower shop. I knew that some of them were obsessed enough to look up our (false) personal data, as they flagrantly discussed what they thought they knew while cooing over us in the flower shop. I wasn't in the least concerned by one young high school student who thought she knew everything about us. "Really?" I asked.

                "Yes. And before you dismiss me as a foolish, obsessed fan, let me demonstrate just how much I know."

                "Go ahead," I answered. _This could be amusing._

                "I know that you, Aya Fujimiya, Youji Kudou, and Omi Tsukiyono are all assassins working for a man who is code-named Persia. Would you prefer I called you Siberian?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I also know that today you encountered vampires and that you have had a rendezvous with the woman called 'Bethany' – better known as Bel'uah."

                I felt my throat go dry as she revealed her knowledge. I had been horribly, horribly wrong. "Just who are you?" I rasped.

                "Someone who needs to ask you a few questions."

                _Not again._ "Look, I don't have any idea what's going on either. When do I get to ask the questions?" I said impatiently. My heart was doing a tap dance.

                "Help me, and I'll help you," Yumi answered, voice turning sultry again.

                "Like hell," I snorted. "You want to talk? I pick the place and the time, and I get to ask the questions first. I'll only answer what I want to answer. Agreed?"

                "You are in no position to bargain, Hidaka-san. You need us more than we need you," Yumi said coolly.

                "I don't need _anyone_, thank you," I practically snarled.

                "You have no choice in the matter. Don't forget, I know all about your … nighttime activities."

                "Resorting to blackmail?" I asked sarcastically to hide how queasy my stomach had become.

                "I use what works." I could almost hear her shrug.

                I squeezed my eyes shut, rubbing the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger to stave off the approaching headache. Already the concussion I had sustained throbbed fiercely. "All right. All right. When and where?"

                "Tomorrow – no, tonight – at 9:30 PM, at the Hot Cat Club." The name of the place she gave was in English and sounded sleazy on her tongue. "It's in the commercial district. I'm sending the directions now."

                "Sending?" I was bewildered.

                "Faxing them, you idiot," she sensed my confusion. "What did you think?"

                I realized I'd been expecting something exotic and supernatural, and just as quickly I realized that I knew – "You're a witch."

                She gave a little gasp of surprise. "Strong you are," she said, somewhat formally. "Strong and fearsome will be your rage, but you must direct it. This is why I must see you. I must give you direction."

                A moment of irritation rose again. "And I should receive directions from a total stranger … why?"

                Yumi laughed gently. "Why not? You already do from Persia." Her voice became sober. "We could be listened to on this phone. Your end is not protected. This is why you must come to the club. No vampire can enter here." I heard her lick her lips. "We cannot talk any longer. I will see you tonight." _Click._

                I stared at the phone for a moment, then hung up before the courtesy message could tell me to do so.

                _Vampires and witches and things that go bump in the night. Ken Hidaka, you really are going mad – and if you're not, you're in really deep, deep shit._

* * *

                I barely slept for the rest of the night, and my dozing dreams were colored by Yumi's seductive, insistent voice and Aya's maddened laughter after a kill. When I 'woke up' (more like rose out of my bed like one of the Living Dead), I stumbled my way over to the _Koneko no Sumu Ie_, apologized to Omi and told him that I wouldn't be at work today, and wandered out into the streets of Tokyo equipped only with my wallet and my new preternatural sense of what was human, what was superhuman, and what was nonhuman.

                I would love to say that I was absolutely fearless on that bright spring morning, but that would be a lie. I was terrified. Until yesterday my world had been comfortably stable, if a little unreal. Now nothing was safe. Our newest mission was to kill vampires and werewolves. Aya was some sort of a magician – a nonhuman magician, at that. A powerful nonhuman named Bethany was trying to exert her control over me and already exerted control over Aya. A witch who worked in a sleazy club wanted answers from me. And I – I was a superhuman, one who sensed what others could not.

                As I wandered through Tokyo, I knew that there was only one thing I really wanted, and that was a gun. Silver bullets or no, just having a gun would have been a comfort. My claws were nice for ripping out the throats of other humans, but they would not save me from someone like Stacey with her preternatural strength and fearsome eyes.

                In the end I realized that purchasing a gun legally was out of the question. It would put my name on the records of Tokyo, and maybe someone would look at my photo someday and say, hey, that's the soccer player who got kicked out of the J-League … isn't he dead? And then there would be questions for which there were no legal answers, and maybe the press, and my family …

                It just wasn't worth it.

                Of course, maybe I was just vain thinking that someone would ever recognize me, but why risk it? I wandered away from respectable Tokyo, into the alleys of the lower class housing. I had a destination in mind.

                When I found the little door into the warehouse I was looking for, it was still bright light outside, but the alleyway was shadowed and cold. I hunched my shoulders and twisted the doorknob. Not surprisingly, it was locked, although the warehouse was probably still abandoned. Using an old trick that Kase had shown me, I pulled out a credit card and tried to shove it into the space between the doorframe and the door itself.

                A bottle fell from one of the heaps of trash behind me and shattered on the ground.

                In my paranoid state of mind, this was an attack warning. I spun around, fists held up, ready to run.

                Two teenaged boys stood before me. They were in aggressive stances; they had been about to rush up and attack me when the bottle fell. Their eyes widened when I spun to face them.

                But they were both human, blessedly human! I nearly cried with relief. Even when one of them rushed up to attack me regardless, I struck him aside almost carelessly, completely unafraid. He sprawled on the ground. The other youth stared at me for a moment before turning and running out of the alley.

                The one I had hit began to rise to his feet slowly, hands groping for the pipe he had carried. No longer overwhelmed by the relief of facing normal people, I kicked the pipe out of his reach and grabbed him by the shirt. He looked at me, eyes wide. I scowled as darkly as I could. "Don't be stupid and throw away your life," I snarled. "Because it starts with the mugging, then you're killing, and before you know it, you are the king of crime. And then I will come out of the night, your first attempted victim, and like an Angel of Vengeance I'll kill you for your waste!"

                It felt so righteous, so good, to scare this youth out of crime. He nodded violently, stuttering apologies. If I hadn't been holding him by the shirt, he probably would have started bowing, bobbing like a store clerk. "Don't apologize to me. Go apologize to your mother, and never do it again!" I released him, and he bowed deeply to me and ran from me, very nearly sobbing.

                I turned back to the door, picked up my credit card, and broke into the warehouse. My confidence in myself had been restored.

                The warehouse was much the same way I had remembered it – cold and dark and empty. It smelled faintly of smoke. Silently I supposed that they never could have really aired out the warehouse without peeling back the roof.

                I felt the edge of fear slip in again, and I let it make me wary. Certainly it was no defense against the images that threatened to well up in my mind as I fumbled in my pocket for a penlight.

                _Burning, acrid smoke filled my lungs and nostrils, and I choked as I tried to rise to my feet. My legs were both broken; I couldn't even crawl. _Kase, Kase –

                I shook my head to clear it and gripped the little flashlight. It provided a bit of illumination as I crossed the gigantic concrete floor, almost jogging in my haste to find what I sought and leave.

                _"Ken!" he screamed as they dragged him away. "Ken! Help me!" And the lighter flew back over the man's shoulder and landed in the oil all around me, and in that horrible instant, through the pain of broken bones and bruised innards, I knew I was going to die, and I would never see my family or Kase ever again. I reached out to my friend as if holding him would save us both._

_                The flames rose around me and Kase disappeared forever._

                I was finally at the wall, but I found myself leaning my head against the flame-blackened concrete and trying not to scream or cry. Kase! It had all been a lie. A damned, damned lie. He had set me up and he left me for dead here in this warehouse, trusting that I would be burnt to a crisp and never found.

                _Turn and turn about, my friend._ Kase was dead by my own hands. Or perhaps that was 'by my own claws'.

                I hated myself far more than I ever hated Kase. I hated him for being a liar, but I was a murderer.

                I gritted my teeth and wrestled with my anger for a few moments before I was calm enough to squat next to the wall, reach into the crack between it and the floor, and find what I was looking for.

                I pulled my old handgun, a .44 Smith and Wesson semi-automatic, free from the dirt of time and examined it in the penlight. My name was still etched into the handle. I had no bullets, but those were easy enough to purchase legally.

                "You are Weiss' bodyguard," I said quietly, brushing the dirt off of the gun with my thumb as I squatted there in the darkness. I was so glad I had kept this and not thrown it into a river. I already felt safer despite having no bullets. After checking the gun for damage (there was none), I pocketed it and left the warehouse without incident, my old demons wrestled back into the shadows of my mind for the moment.

* * *

                By around 4:30 PM I had purchased two packs of exploding tip bullets for my gun and had practiced at the shooting range for an hour, making myself accustomed to the weapon again. I had no silver bullets, but I felt less fear. At least next time I would have _something_ to fight the vampires with that didn't require me being in their faces, intimately tearing at their skin, and within their grip.

                Having nothing else to do, I came back to the flower shop where Omi and Aya were surrounded by the middle-school girls who often invaded the shop after school. Almost immediately my own group of fans flocked to me. "Ken-san!" "Ken-kun!" "We missed you! Where have you been?"

                The familiarity of such surroundings was comforting and frightening at the same time. _I can't be caught off-guard! There are worse things than vampires._ I thought of Bethany and her clicking pen and shivered before wondering when I had begun to classify her as more dangerous than the vampires we were supposed to kill.

I remembered Youji abruptly. "Omi! How's Youji doing?"

Omi looked up at me distractedly. "He's probably sleeping still. Aya-kun says that it's only natural after last night." He threw a glance at Aya. Aya stoically ignored us both as easily as he ignored the girls fawning over him. Again Omi's gaze returned to me, his eyes pleading. "Ken-kun, can you please help us in here?"

I shook my head. "I have to see Youji." With that, I turned away and waded through the girls towards our apartment complex.

Behind me Aya barked, "If you're not going to buy something, get out!"

I smiled.

* * *

Author's Notes: Again, I have wonderful reviewers! Thank you forever and ever! ^^x

To answer a few more questions: someone asked if I wrote the poem at the beginning myself. I did. At the time I thought it had something to do with the plotline. Now I know better. It does sound pretty cool, doesn't it? ^^x

On the subject of pairings: I blatantly avoid the subject in this fic. Personally, I love YoujixKen and RanxKen pairups. I also have this little thing for AyaxYouji … in this fic, you may notice that Ken appreciates the female bodies around him, but there will be plenty of eyecandy (if you have a good imagination) for the female fans that I'm sure are reading. (Think leather! Hehehe …) You can decide for yourself which way each character swings. I myself am not sure with this particular work.

Finally – the next section strives to make my fic earn the 'R' rating I have given it. Stay tuned …


	4. Part Four

_Dream of Crimson _– Part IV

By Vikki

Disclaimer:  I can only dream of owning this … so, no worries, right?  ^^x

Flame Policy:  I … AM … Persia!  Whahahahaaa!

Pre-Author's notes: Apologies to my readers … I posted a list as one of my fics, and it got reported to the staff.  I've been suspended for the past five days from ff.net – translate: no posting!  I had to wait until Monday the 11th!  Sorry.

*   *   *

Youji's apartment door was locked.  I used my copy of his key to get in without knocking and hurried to his bedroom.  As I passed the threshold into his room, I felt as if I were being brushed by something that asked, _Who? Who? and when it saw that I would not harm Youji, the thing went away._

Youji was sleeping peacefully, bare-chested, but covered from the waist down by his sheets.  He was in a natural sleeping position – in his case, sprawled languidly across the bed – and his breathing was even and slow.  I let out a breath of relief that I had not realized I was holding.

He stirred.  "Kenken?  That you?" he yawned, stretching.

I stiffened for a moment and sank slowly into the chair still positioned by his bed.  "Don't call me Kenken," I said softly.

"Yeah, that's you."  Youji smiled, sitting up, and finally opened his brilliant green eyes to look at me.  And he really _looked at me; his eyes weren't like blank windows to the soul as they had been yesterday.  I heard myself sigh in relief again.  "You don't look so good."_

"Rough night," I said, glancing at the clock beside his bed, "though I guess that shouldn't matter by 4:45 PM the next day."

Youji chuckled.  His hands rested in the sheets bunched around his legs.  "I've had days like that," he said.  His eyes became distant and confused as he ran one hand through his hair.  "How long have I been sleeping?  I feel like I've slept for a week."

"Only 36 hours," I told him, grinning.  "That's hardly record-setting for you."  Once Youji had slept all the way through a weekend.  He didn't sleep a wink all of the following week, but still – 36 hours was nothing for him.

Youji looked at me sharply, then, none of his catlike grace in his features for a moment.  "36 hours – Ken, what happened?  I remember going to the Library with you to look for targets, and after that … nothing.  Well, a little something, but it's all bits and fragments, and they really don't make any sense at all."

I shifted uneasily in my chair.  "You're not gonna believe a word of this," I warned him.

"Try me," Youji answered.  He pushed himself back on his bed so he could sit up against the headboard and crossed his arms over his chest.

So I launched into my version of the events of the last day and a half.  I told him about the vampires and the werewolf and how Aya had rescued us both; I told him about Aya's and my trip to see Bethany, a.k.a. Bel'uah, and I told him about the call from the witch last night; I told him that I had a gun and that he ought to buy a gun with silver bullets, too.  I left out some information – such as that both Aya and Bethany weren't human.  For some reason I felt like that was dangerous knowledge that ought not to be spread around.

When I finished, Youji just looked at me for a long moment before letting out all of his breath in a long, low sigh.  That sigh sounded like he was giving up all he held dear.  "You know, Kenken, you just shattered my belief in all that was stable."

"I know," I said as calmly as I could, which wasn't very calmly.  I was trembling, and I wasn't sure if it was because of what I remembered or because of a sudden, utter feeling of hopelessness that had descended on me.  I was a pawn – hell, we were all pawns – being moved about by players on a chessboard that we could not possibly understand.

Youji looked away from me now.  "I need a cigarette," he said shortly, rolling over to grope for the pack that he normally left on his nightstand.  There was no pack there now; he swore and began to get out of bed.  I jumped to my feet, told him I'd get him a pack from his stash in the kitchen, and bring him a lighter, too.

We all needed our little comforts right then, I thought.  Who cared if Youji wanted to smoke?  It was more likely that we'd be killed by our own targets than by lung cancer.

Once Youji had comfortably started in on his cigarette and I had settled back into the chair by his bed, we just looked at each other for a long moment.  Finally Youji said, "Well, that story fits right in with the bits I remember."  There was silence for a moment before he added, "Sorry, Siberian."

It was an official apology to me for his failure to back me up during a mission.  "Forget it," I said, and I meant it totally.  "There's nothing to be sorry for, really.  You found the targets, didn't you?" I tried to joke.

Youji smiled a somewhat bitter smile.  "That's my line, Kenken," he told me.  Then, very suddenly, he became the Youji I knew.  He smirked genuinely at me.  "Well, then, the supernatural truths have just succeeded the natural truths," he said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.  I felt a momentary flash of anger, but the twinkle in Youji's eye stopped me from speaking.  "We'd best learn how to track vampires, and quickly, _ne?"_

I was totally caught off-guard.  I smiled uncertainly at him.  "Yeah. Fast."  And just like that, I felt the anger that I'd felt before nudge aside the despair within me.  These vampires had messed with our heads.  They were going to pay with their lives.  I snarled silently at them.  "Youji, tonight I'm meeting with this witch woman Yumi.  I'm not going alone if you'll come with me.  Will you?  I just need to find out what she wants and get as many answers out of her as I can."

"I'd be glad to interrogate her," Youji said, smirking still as he climbed out of his bed.  He wore only his forest green boxers.  "Especially if she's as sexy as her voice."

"Youji!" I felt the familiar flash of embarrassment and anger and was comforted by the routine of it.  "That's just – just sick!"  Youji laughed at me, and I became angrier.  It was comfortable, this routine.

I thought I was already so weirded out that nothing could faze me anymore.  Unfortunately, it was almost disgusting how many more things were out there to 'weird me out'.

As the old saying goes, this was only the beginning.

*   *   *

                At 9:25 PM or so, I creaked up to the steps of the Hot Cat Club.

                I say 'creaked' because I was decked out in so much new leather there is really no other way to put it.

                It was Youji's fault that I was dressed this way.  My pants, made of black leather, were tight to my thighs, buttocks, and other parts of my anatomy, but rode loose over my calves; my shirt was a dark burgundy hue and embarrassingly short, continuously riding up my chest to expose my midriff. My shoes were clunky and uncomfortable, although I probably could have run in them if I had to.  I had two rings on my right hand.  Youji even had me wearing a leather collar around my neck. I had put a stop to things there because I insisted on an oversized leather jacket so I could hide my gun on my person somewhere.  I didn't trust Yumi for a second when she said that no vampires could get into her club.

                Youji was decked out even more magnificently than I was, wearing black leather pants similar to mine but with silver trimmings, a mesh midriff shirt, and a leather vest over that.  It was in the vest that Youji had hidden his .38 caliber standard-issue police gun that I had had no idea he'd hung onto.  He wore a silver chain around his neck and silver rings on numerous fingers.

                There was a line to get into the club.  I cut directly to the front of it, carrying the faxed directions Yumi had sent me.  A beefy bodyguard glared at me with his arms crossed as I approached.  I held up the directions.  "Yumi Ryuuki sent me here," I told him as he snatched the paper from my hand.  "I need to get in directly."

                The guard eyed me, then grunted noncommittally and turned his eyes on Youji.  "This is my partner," I explained quickly.  "I won't talk with Yumi if he can't come in with me."

                Again the guard grunted, then pointed us inside with a jerk of his thumb.  Youji took the lead immediately, walking in without fear.  I hesitated for a moment, and that moment was all that the bodyguard needed, apparently.  He grabbed me by the arm and leaned over to speak in my ear.  "Yumi is a waitress," he told me.  "Ask for a Bloody Mary with real blood.  She'll talk to you then."  He released me and straightened, folding his arms and scowling again at the line.  I stared at him, pulled my shirt back down to meet my pants, and hurried in after Youji.

                As soon as I stepped into the building I was hit by heavy rock music blasting from the dance floor below us.  A set of stairs led down to the mass of wriggling bodies that constituted the dance floor; in the middle of the crowd a band played on a platform.  The floor was ringed by a raised, carpeted area, and it was on this level and to the right that the bar was.  The air was smoky; all I could smell was cigarettes, alcohol, and sweat.  It wasn't that warm on this upper level, but I broke out into a sweat anyway.

Standing next to me, Youji was smirking widely.  "This is a good club," he shouted at me over the music.  "No wonder there's a line already!"

I nodded, but I wasn't paying much attention to him.  My sixth sense was going off the scale.  All four of the band members on the dance floor were superhuman; the waitress at the bar was superhuman (no surprise, because that was supposed to be Yumi); some of the dancers were superhuman, and more than one patron of the bar as well.  "This is a freaking witch haven!" I shouted at Youji.  "They're everywhere!"

"Okay," Youji nodded.  "But the witches are against the vampires, right?  They're the good guys."

"I hope," I answered sourly.

Youji helped by taking the lead.  "Look, I'm going to go dance," he announced.  "You can contact me on the radios, as usual.  It'd probably be better if Yumi didn't know I was here anyway.  If she tries to hex you or something, I'll play the knight in shining armor, okay?"

"All right," I agreed, pulling my shirt down again.  Youji grinned at me, shouted, "Good luck, Siberian!" and disappeared down the steps into the pulsating crowd.  I wound my way through the numerous patrons to the bar.

Yumi was a young woman who couldn't have been more than a few years older than I.  (Teenager that I am, these things are hard to judge.)  She wore an obscenely tight black skirt and a white blouse unbuttoned to show just a little too much cleavage.  Her skin was bronze; her hair was silky black and pulled up into a tight bun in the back of her head, only a spray of hair emerging for colorful flair, I supposed.  She didn't even look up at me as I took a seat.  Wiping a glass clean with a towel, she asked, "What'll it be, _ojii-san?"_

"A Bloody Mary, please," I said.  Feeling silly and a little jittery, I added, "With real blood, if you can manage it."

Immediately her whole demeanor changed from indifferent waitress to attentive witch.  She looked up at me, her dark eyes piercing.  "So you're Ken Hidaka."  She looked me up and down, smirking just a little.  "It's a pleasure to meet you."

I shifted uncomfortably on my seat, cursing Youji and his leather fetish.  Nervously I tugged at my shirt.  "And you're Yumi Ryuuki.  You wanted to talk?"

"I still do.  Let's go someplace quieter," she nodded.  Her voice was soothingly smooth.  "_Oi, Kasumi!"  She tossed her towel to a waitress at the other end of the bar as she looked up.  "Take over for me, will you?  I have business."  Without even waiting for an answer, she vaulted easily over the bar and led the way towards the back of the club._

I couldn't help noting that Kasumi was a witch, too, as I followed Yumi out of the loud, smoky room.

Youji's voice crackled in my ear over the radio.  "Where are you going?"

"To the back rooms," I whispered.

"Tell me if you get some action," Youji said before cutting the connection for the moment.  I blushed, although I wasn't certain what sort of action Youji was talking about.

Once we were out of the smoky main room of the club, we were in the smoky back halls of the club.  Yumi led me past doors leading to rooms from which moans, grunts, and cries of pleasure were clearly audible.  I tried very hard not to think about them or hear them.  Finally Yumi turned out of the dim hallway and unlocked a door.  She flipped on the light inside the room and stepped inside, beckoning for me to follow.

The room was fairly large, but it was bare.  The floor and walls were concrete.  A few rickety old wooden chairs sat against the walls.  The only real furniture in the room was a gigantic stone table in the very center.  A single uncovered light bulb hanging from the ceiling provided barely enough light for me to see the corners of the room.  There was a faint smell of blood and decay, and the room was very cold.

However, it was not the furnishings that made me feel uneasy and nervous.  I could almost see the supernatural energy crackling around in here.  Yumi seemed to swell in my eyes, and I knew somehow that this room was some sort of a focus point for her power.

Yumi did not seem to notice my discomfort, even though I was fidgeting and fussing with my shirt and sweating just a little.  She pulled two chairs from against the wall and bade me sit down.  I obeyed awkwardly, shifting in my chair to keep my leather pants from pinching me.

For a moment there was absolute silence as Yumi produced a cigarette and lit it, taking a deep drag and letting it out through her teeth.  She looked at me; I tried to look calm and collected as I looked back at her.  Finally I asked, "Well?  We're here.  What did you want to talk about?"

Yumi didn't reply right away.  She took another drag on her cigarette instead.  "I had a few questions for you, but most of them were answered by a confidante of mine.  Don't worry; it's no one you know.  I have quite a few connections, Ken-san.

"Because of this, though, we can skip directly to the main reason I asked you to come, which I could not tell you over the phone.  I understand that yesterday was your very first exposure to the Underground.  I wish to enlighten you, then ask for a favor."

I balked at the request.  "A favor?  After you forced me here with blackmail?"  I forced myself to stay calm.  _What would Aya do in this situation - no, wait, killing her probably isn't an option.  What about Youji?  I trusted his judgement; if I ignored the constant flirting, I could probably use his example.  "Can I refuse the favor safely?"_

"How do you mean, safely?" Yumi asked innocently.

"Oh, bullshit, you know exactly what I'm talking about," I answered hotly.  "Will you blackmail me?  Choose your answer wisely, because if I want to, I'll just shoot you after this interview."

Yumi's sharp features seemed to become sharper and more hawk-like as she straightened to glare at me.  "You will _not shoot me, not here in this room with my focus," she said in a towering voice.  "Because if you do, the forces in this room will not let you leave this place alive!"_

I don't know how I knew, but I was certain that she was telling me the absolute truth.  Maybe it had something to do with how the room suddenly seemed to close in on me while a voice shrieked in my ears.  I shuddered and shrank away, stuttering an apology.

The room returned to its original size and Yumi seemed to be a normal person again - at least as normal as a witch could get.  She settled back in her chair.  "I'm glad you understand," she said in a cold voice.  Her voice and features thawed though, as she continued, "Yes, you can freely refuse to grant my request.  I highly urge you, though, on the basis of the fact that my request has quite a bit to do with the world as a whole, to accept.  However, this must wait.  I assume you have many questions about recent events, as it were.  I am here to answer your questions."

I nodded, struggling to regain my composure.  "Uh … all right, then.  Can you tell me about vampires?  Vampires in general, I mean.  Bethany-san wasn't very specific on that subject."

Yumi nodded her assent.  "Vampires are an ancient evil that have been on the earth since before the Roman Empire.  There isn't much known about their origins, but we do know quite a bit about their powers, existence, and weaknesses.

"Vampires are humans that have drunk the blood of a vampire.  They are immortal in that they cannot die by natural causes and do not age after they have been changed.  They have keen eyesight and a good sense of smell.  They can climb up sheer walls and jump from the ground straight up two or three stories; they have an unnatural strength and the power to hypnotize with their eyes.  To remain animated they must drink the blood of a mammal - otherwise they shrivel up and become a consciousness trapped in a dried shell of a body - and their easiest and most fulfilling preys are humans.  All vampires sleep the sleep of the dead for some portion of the day, and the older the vampire is, the shorter this sleep is, and the stronger the vampire becomes.  They come out at night most often, but if they are bold, they will hunt during the day as well.  The highest number of vampires lived during the Middle ages, which is why vampire stories began to crop up then.

"I'm sure you've heard all of the myths caused by these stories - that vampires are burned by crucifixes, garlic keeps them away, they burn up in the light of the sun.  These are all lies.  Crucifixes have no effect whatsoever on vampires, although they fear what it symbolizes.  Garlic can keep them away only insofar as its smell.  Vampires have highly sensitive noses.  If they have the will to overcome the strength of the garlic smell, it won't do you much good.  The sun also has little effect on vampires.  It will make them go blind if they spend much time in it, and they burn more easily than most Europeans, but otherwise, it does not effect them.

"On the other hand, putting a wooden stake through the heart of a vampire and cutting off their head will indeed kill them.  So will silver bullets.  Utterly obliterating their bodies and scattering the remains can work, too, but generally the only effective method of this is burning, which is awfully noticeable in this day and age.

"Vampires have appeared here in Japan only recently.  They were not here before World War II.  And even more recently, a coven of vampires has entered this section of Tokyo.  Miki and Stacey are members of that coven," Yumi nodded to me.  "We have counted six vampires as members of the coven, and they have hired two werewolves on their behalf.  The situation is delicate because this coven is bolder than most."

"Who is 'we'?" I asked, bolder now.  It was awfully nice to finally be getting the answers I needed.

"The coven of witches that I belong to.  We number seventeen."

"Can you tell me about witches?"

Yumi hesitated.  "There are secrets of the coven that I cannot tell you, but I will do my best.

                "Witches are humans that a highly developed capacity for tapping into the lifestream.  That sounds mystical, and that's because it is.  The lifestream cannot really be defined, but it is what enables magic to be performed.  It flows most strongly in the blood of all living creatures."

                "Which is why," I interrupted, "the vampires must suck blood.  They have no lifestream."  As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I blinked at my own knowledge.

                Yumi either didn't notice or didn't acknowledge my surprise.  "That is partially so.  In any case, the lifestream is what we witches can tap.  Some vampires can tap this stream, too, if they have fresh blood in their bodies.  And this brings me to blood magic.

                "There is no such thing as magic without blood.  This is why you can smell blood in here – any magic performed requires blood spillage."  I winced at the thought, but said nothing.  "Thus, we call magic blood magic.  I cannot really give you any more details on this subject because our magic is a well-kept secret.  I hope you understand."

                "I … _I can't do magic, can I?" I asked._

                "I doubt it, but I haven't probed for a connection to the lifestream.  Would you like me to?" she asked.

                "No! No, that's okay," I shook my head.  "If I don't have to, I don't want to know anything else about blood magic."

Yumi was giving me that catlike grin that Youji often gave me when I was acting naïve.  I pressed on.  "What about werewolves, then?"

                "Werewolves are almost as old as vampires, although I suspect they appeared during the Middle ages for the first time.  Werewolves are humans that have been bitten by a werewolf.  In the light of the full moon, these humans turn into wolf-like creatures whose sole purpose is to kill whatever they can.  They are much stronger than a natural wolf, though.  In their more common human form, they often look perfectly normal, although the strongest ones may still have fangs.  They maintain a preternatural strength in their human forms as well, though this strength is lesser than their wolfish form.

                "The important thing to remember about werewolves is that they are rarely cruel or carnal people by nature.  In fact, I have known some of the gentlest people who were werewolves.  No; most of them are only dangerous during the full moon.  Although there are exceptions.  The werewolf with Stacey and Miki is a mercenary and hires himself out to the highest bidder.  Currently he works for the vampire coven; if I were to offer him a larger sum of money right now, he'd change sides in the blink of an eye."

                That reminded me of Bethany's accusations against Aya.  "That's right, Bethany-san said something about werewolves being officially neutral …"

                "They are," Yumi agreed.  "Werewolves often have as little to do with the Underground as possible.  And I cannot blame them."

                "You've used that term, 'Underground', twice now.  What is the Underground?"

                "The supernatural world beneath the normal, natural surface.  Do you see why we call it the Underground?  When was the last time you heard about a vampire attack in the alleyways of Tokyo, even though you know they are occurring?"

                I saw her point.  "Okay, one last question.  What is your coven's stance on the vampires?"

                Yumi looked agitated for the first time.  She shifted on her seat and uncrossed her shapely legs.  "That is awkward.  We are currently split on the subject."

                "Then tell me the opposing stances," I offered.  The witch, however, gave me a look that said it was very private.  "Listen.  I can't grant you any favors if my work helps the vampires out.  My mission is to kill the vampires – which you may know, thanks to that amazing confidante of yours.  I won't back out on that because they are killing innocent people!"  I was getting worked up.  I took a deep breath and held it as Yumi considered my speech.

                "All right," she said finally.  "I can tell you this: some witches are considering joining forces with the vampires.  This is very … unusual, because witches and vampires have been opposing forces for years – since the Middle ages, actually."  She paused as if considering what more to tell me.  "We – all of the Japanese witches, that is – have been at an armistice with the Japanese vampires for years.  Which finally brings me to my request: tip the scales in our favor.  Help my coven of witches overcome this coven of vampires, and we can set an example for witches across the country to follow."

                I stared at her.  Okay; I acknowledged that her request coincided with my mission.  However, wasn't _she the one with the mystical blood magic powers?  "What makes you think __I can tip the scales in your favor?  If you witches with your blood magic can't beat them, how am __I supposed to?" I demanded._

                Yumi looked at me very calmly.  "Because, Ken Hidaka, you are a Slayer, and it is your calling to destroy vampires."

                I opened my mouth, and then I shut it.  I must have looked precisely like a fish out of water.  "That's bullshit," I finally managed.  "I don't believe it."

                "You perfectly fit the profile," Yumi informed me.  "You have no supernatural powers beyond a sensitivity to the preternatural, and perhaps a bit of inhuman strength if you're lucky.  You cannot be entranced by a vampire's eyes or located by their supernatural senses.  And you have the killing instinct."

                "The … killing instinct?"  My voice was small despite all efforts to sound tough and unfazed.  Something deep inside me was telling me that Yumi was right, and I was mad at it.  I was not in tune with this mystical interlocking inside me.

                "Yes.  You kill easily.  Yes, you kill with a purpose, but you still kill easily."

                "I hate killing!" I snapped at her, rising to my feet and letting the anger flow out of me.  "It's never easy!"

                "Do you remember the murderer of that boy who only wanted to protect his sister?  The victim was the same age as you, and when you found the murderer, you did not rend him with your claws.  You smiled as you shot him through the mouth."  Yumi's voice and face was impassive.

                I recoiled, sitting heavily on my chair.  "How can you know that!? Wait, don't answer, one of your sources, right?"  I asked sarcastically.

                "Correct," she said in that infuriatingly calm, collected, and yet sensitive voice.  "That is the killing instinct, Ken-san.  It is a part of you as a Slayer.  Acknowledge it and do not fret."

                I was incensed.  "How dare you dictate to me the course of my life-!"

                "I'm not.  You are a Vampire Hunter, and you know it."  Her eyes gripped me and insisted that I listen.

                She was right.  I was so mad, but she was right.  I sank back into the chair and held my head in my hands.  It was pounding.  I realized that I hadn't refreshed my supply of aspirin since six o'clock.  "All right," I said weakly.  "I'm a Slayer, a Vampire Hunter, whatever.  The point is, you want me to kill these vampires, right?"

                "Correct.  And if you have the courage, Ken-san, you will be able to do it."

                I tried to think through the fog – or maybe soup – that my brain had become.  "I'll kill them.  I have to.  But know that this has nothing to do with your request for a favor.  This is just because they're our targets, and they have killed innocent people."

                I could almost hear Yumi's slow, seductive smile.  "Very well."  She stood.  "Do you need help standing?"

                "Don't touch me," I answered, heaving to my feet.  I turned to face her.  "Do you use human sacrifices for your blood magic?" I demanded on impulse.

                Yumi was startled.  Very startled.  For a moment I heard the shriek I had heard in my ears when I threatened Yumi, and I thought it sounded like a dying girl.  I came to a sudden realization.  "This place was christened by a girl's death!  It's her soul, her blood that this place feeds on!"

                I saw in Yumi's eyes that I was right.

                I turned away, nearly running to the door.  When my hand was on it, I glared at her over my shoulder.  "Damn you!  Your stupid coven is no better than the vampires!  After I'm done with them, see if I don't come after you!"  I yanked the door open, shut it after me, and fled back into the noise of the main room of the Hot Cat Club.

*   *   *

                I smacked at my ear, turning on the radio that connected Youji and me.  "Balinese, we're leaving, and fast.  I think I pissed off the witch."  In fact, it would be quite remarkable if she were not pissed at me.

                "Right."  Youji's radio shut off; only a minute later he met me at the door, looking a bit disheveled and sweaty.  I motioned that we didn't have time to speak and yanked open the door.

                Even as I did so, I felt a swelling supernatural presence practically destroy the doorway leading to the back halls of the club.  I spun around to see Yumi standing in the ruined doorway, her eyes wild, her fists clenched at her sides.  She pointed at me stiffly.  "Ken Hidaka!  Hear my words!  You stand in the peril of two great powers – that of the vampires and that of the witches.  I have offered you shelter in our embrace, and you have rejected it!  Hear!"  Her voice was piercing and supernaturally enhanced; I saw a smear of blood across her throat and knew it was being used to increase the volume of her voice.  The dancers stopped dancing; the band stopped playing.  All were silent and staring at either Yumi or me.  She continued, unheeding, her voice dropping low.  "I swear vengeance, unless you see the error of your choice.  We are the lesser of two evils!  Choose!  You cannot stand apart from this, Slayer, Hunter!"

                All eyes turned expectantly on me, and I broke out into a sweat.  Youji put a hand on my shoulder, which was a welcome comfort.  Mustering my courage and anger, I shouted back at her, "Murderer!  I swore to kill people like you two years ago!"  I realized my fists were balled at my sides.  "I'm not a vampire, and I'm not a witch.  I'll walk my own path!"  With those final words, I stomped out the door to the accompaniment of absolute and total silence.  Youji followed me.

                After we'd walked (and I'd stomped) a short ways, Youji finally said, "I think you just made us a bundle of enemies, Kenken."

                "Don't call me Kenken," I said distractedly.  I slipped into the closest alleyway and leaned against the brick wall, running my hands through my hair.  I was suddenly very tired; the adrenaline I had been running on drained out of me in a rush, and I collapsed.

                Youji was right next to me.  "Ken?  Are you okay?"

                "Fine," I said slowly.  "Tired.  _Chikuso!  It wasn't supposed to turn out this way!"_

                "How was it supposed to turn out?"

                "I don't know.  Not with seventeen new enemies.  Not with me finding out I'm a … Slayer."

                "A what?"

                I sighed and started from the beginning, telling Youji everything Yumi told me.  "So, supposedly I'm a Vampire Hunter.  Isn't that just peachy?"  My voice took on an embarrassing note of hysteria by the end of my tirade.

                Youji wasn't fazed at all.  He was surprised, but not knocked out of it.  As if he knew I needed it, he acted exactly the way he always did: just a little too flippant, always grinning.  "That's all?  Well, then, no worries!  You've always been a Hunter, right?"  He slapped me on the back, and I smiled a little.  "Com'n, Kenken, you can't let this get to you.  It's the same as always: kill the targets, get the cash, and keep going.  The target is just a little unusual this time.  We'll get through this, same as always."

                That cheered me up a little, enough that I felt like standing up to go home.  Youji helped me to my feet, and we began to leave the alleyway.

                _Flash fangs and blue eyes_

                Abruptly I was aware of a nonhuman presence behind us.  "Youji!  Vampires!"  I cried, but I was just a moment too late.  I turned just as Youji was flung aside.  He flew several meters through the air and crashed into a lamppost, which he slid down, groaning.  I started to face our attacker, but he moved faster than I could even think, it seemed; the next thing I knew, I was plastered against the brick wall face-first.  I fell to the ground in a heap, barely able to look up at our attacker as my body recovered from the initial shock of being slammed into a wall.

                Indeed, it was a vampire; the teeth were unmistakable.  His eyes were an unnaturally bright blue under a mop of curly brown hair.  He looked as if he were younger than me.  Now he turned those unnatural eyes on Youji, who was struggling to stand again. 

"Youji! Don't look into his eyes!" I said hoarsely, but I didn't know if voice carried far enough for him to hear.  It didn't matter; Youji had reached into his inside vest pocket and produced his .38 caliber pistol.  The vampire did not stop advancing, even as Youji pointed the gun at his chest.

He pulled the trigger.  The shot rang in my ears and blood spattered on my face.  The vampire stopped moving, staring with surprise down at the hole in his chest that was gushing blood.  Youji froze.

And then the vampire began to advance on Youji again.

Youji made an odd, strangled noise and emptied his clip into the vampire – six shots in all.  The vampire didn't even seem to notice; in fact, he was healing right before our eyes!  "Petty guns cannot hurt me, stupid human," the vampire hissed as he leaned over and grabbed Youji's face in his hands, forcing the playboy to look at him.

_Okay.  So much for normal bullets.  This was the only coherent thought that passed through my mind at that moment.  The rest of me was crying __Oh god not Youji not again make it stop, dammit!_

I struggled to my feet.  Youji was kicking the vampire in the balls (if he had any), his eyes squeezed shut, his hands locked around the vampire's arms as he tried to loosen the inhuman grip of the creature.  The vampire seemed to be trying to get to his neck, but Youji was not a willing victim, and he was having a hard time of it.  I had been forgotten.

For a long moment I just stared at the two combatants, my mind clicking very slowly through the facts.  My first instinct was to jump on the vampire from behind, but a detached, logical part of me said that this would accomplish nothing.  I became aware of blood trickling from my nose and mouth.  A tooth was loose.  Youji was weakening.

_Wooden stake.  Kill it with a wooden stake.  I clung to that thought and ran into the alleyway, towards the smell of trash.  Surely someone had thrown out an old broom, a hoe, a wooden dowel –_

I found a broomstick so quickly it was almost frightening.  The end was even sharp because it was already broken.  I sprinted back to Youji.

Youji was almost lost, his grip weak.  The vampire didn't see me at all.  I practically threw myself on his back and shoved the wooden stake into him.

Blood spurted, drenching me suddenly, and the vampire let out a cry of agony as he tried to reach over his back and grab me.  I shoved the broomstick in further, amazed by how easily the skin gave way to the flimsy weapon, and clinging to his backside I felt this was the safest place on him.  His sharp nails tore at my clothes and shoulders, but they did little damage.  I kept forcing the stick into him.

It felt like an eternity before I finally felt no resistance to the stick and I knew I had shoved it all the way through his heart and body.  The vampire shuddered and collapsed to his knees, blood spurting from him still.  He was still breathing, though he no longer fought me.  He gazed at me over his shoulder through those malevolent blue eyes full of hatred, and I glared back at him, breathing hard.  I didn't dare let go of the stake, but I didn't know what to do next!  He was still alive!

Then I felt a hand reach inside my pocket and take my gun.  I jumped before I realized this was Youji.  He pointed the gun at the vampire's neck.  "Cut off its head, and it'll die," he said hoarsely, squeezing the trigger.

The bang was loud, and suddenly the vampire had no neck whatsoever.  The exploding tip of the bullet had done its dirty work.  Blood and bits of bone flew out in all directions to stick to the pavement, the wall, Youji, and myself; the vampire's head, which was mostly whole but had a ghastly neckline of hanging flesh, rolled away and checked up against the wall of the alley.  The body of the vampire was only supported by the wooden stake that I still held tightly in my hand.  I pried my fingers off of it; the body slumped to the ground, still adding blood to the pool around it.

Youji flipped on the safety of my gun and replaced it in my pocket.

I dropped to my knees and retched.

*   *   *

Author's Notes: Hugs and kisses to every reviewer!  You're all so cool!

Er … eheheh, this part of the fic is a little morbid, ne?  I look back on writing it and say, "Maybe Ken wouldn't retch at the end," because after all, he uses **bugnuks**.  I mean, that has got to be the most up-close-and-personal-with-my-victim's-blood of the weapons Weiss uses.  But I can't take it out.  It seems like a good touch.

Oh, yeah – I apologize for any and all Youji OOCness.  (Ken doesn't have much of a personality in the series, so I don't think it's possible to make him OOC.)  If it's really bad, I'll find out soon, because my buddy who loves Youji dearly will be reading my fic and criticizing my every misstep.  I tried hard, but I don't think I have a really good grasp of how Youji handles tragedy or surprises.

Back to pairings: I repeat, I'm blatantly ignoring the subject.  Actually, this section (and the next, I guess) have YouKen tendencies, but they're not planned!  Ken is coming off as bisexual.  That's just fine with me.  I just don't have the energy to throw in a love tangle along with all the shit that Ken will have to put up with.

Thanks for sticking with me!  We have a long, long way to go … I appreciate your patience.  ::bows:: Arigatou!


	5. Part Five

_Dream of Crimson _- Part V

By Vikki

Disclaimer: Ken is MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE - Oh. Never mind. ::reciting from a script:: Weiss Kreuz belongs to Takehito Koyasu. No profit is being made from this story. Please don't sue me. ::sigh::

Flame Policy: Don't waste your time on me! Go find some misspelled, cruddy fanfic to abuse … okay, well maybe this fic is cruddy, but I still won't accept flames!

*   *   *

                We were a sorry pair that straggled back into the _Koneko at 10:45 that night.  My tooth had firmed up in my mouth, but my nose, lip, and left eye had swollen up.  My chest and thighs were a mass of bruises; my shirt was shredded from the vampire's claws and scratches covered my shoulders.  Youji was bruised around his neck and he reported that breathing was difficult.  He __looked as if he were in better shape than I, but he was the one that had been thrown up against a lamppost three meters from where he was standing, while I had been tossed no further than half a meter.  His back was killing him and he had retched blood; he leaned on me for support as we walked home.  Our clothes were forever bloodstained.  Mentally, we were forever scarred._

                Youji had called Kritiker while I was still shuddering on my knees, retching into the pile of blood that constituted the vampire.  Like I've said, he really is remarkably well put together mentally if you ignore the flirting tendency altogether.  He informed them that a cleanup crew was needed one block northwest of the Hot Cat Club and told Birman that this was our first fallen target.

                Chalk up ¥500,000 to me.  Yay.

                In the basement of the flower shop Youji and I treated each other's wounds; it was a lot easier than trying to do it alone as the stiffness of bruises and battered limbs set in.  I don't recall if we said anything to each other of any importance.  The horrific experience we'd had was beyond words.

                I vowed that if I could prevent it, I would never, ever kill a vampire with a wooden stake again.

                At Youji's door I forced out of Youji a promise to tell me if he coughed up or threw up blood during the night before I dragged my sorry ass up the stairs and into my own apartment.  I was terminally exhausted, but I knew that I wouldn't sleep at all.  I peeled the disgusting remains of my club clothes off of my body, tossed them into a trashcan, and started a hot shower.

                I stood under the continual downstream of water, naked, and watched the brown dried blood on my chest flake off, revive in the swirling water at my feet to become a diluted red liquid, and slip down the drain.  The water pounded on my face, and it hurt.  I bowed my head and let the water pour over my hair, washing more blood off of me, until my hair was soaked through and water dripped off of the ends of my bangs and my nose and my eyelashes.  Brown flakes ceased to drift off of me, and instead the remains of the vampire's life ran down my features and body in faint red rivulets.  My shoulders, still raw from the creature's scratching nails, ached under the pounding water.

Still, I did not move.  I didn't move when the water turned my fingers and toes to prunes; I didn't move, in fact, until the water lost all its heat and began to freeze my skin.

I shut off the water and pulled a towel off the rack and stood in the lukewarm, steamy air of my bathroom.  I toweled myself off vigorously; to my horror, the towel had brown streaks on it when I looked.  I yanked on a fresh pair of boxers and dumped the towel in the same trashcan as the club clothes.

I wiped clear a section of the misted mirror to get a look at my face.  The blood on my face was gone, but my nose was red and swollen, my lower lip was split, and my left eye was ringed with black.  I looked as if I'd been in a fistfight.

_Except what really happened is I got into an argument with a brick wall.  And I lost.  I grimaced at my reflection and finally left the bathroom to lie in my bed._

Images of Youji being choked, Yumi's twisted face screaming at me, and the forever-hating blue eyes of the vampire chased each other around my head while I stared at the ceiling.  My face, chest, and head throbbed, and belatedly I thought to get an ice pack to lessen the swelling of my nose.  I wondered if it was broken.

The ice numbed the pain in my face and an aspirin helped with my headache.  I lay back down in my bed and shut my eyes against the swirling visions.  I was so close to dreaming, yet so far away …

*   *   *

                Someone was pounding on my door.

                I jerked upright on my bed.  Sunlight streamed into my bedroom window; the pack of ice I had left on my face fell with a wet plop into my lap – the ice had all melted.

                "_Oi, Ken!  Get up!" The pounding continued._

                _Aya?_

                I rolled out of bed and landed catlike on the floor.  My muscles protested loudly.  "Coming!" I said.  My voice was hoarse, and I doubt it carried to the door.  I yanked on a pair of khakis and cinched the belt around my waist to the accompaniment of the pounding fist before padding over to the doorway and yanking the door open.  "Geez, you could just wait for a moment!" I demanded, looking up at my harasser.

                Aya held a watch in my face.  "It's 10 o'clock.  We're supposed to be opening shop now."

                "Well, excuse me," I said irritably.  I turned to retreat back into my apartment and motioned for Aya to follow.  "For your information, I was out killing vampires and meeting witches until late last night, and I really don't give a shit about the flower shop.  Close the door behind you."

                I heard the door click shut as I turned into the kitchen.  I pulled out two slices of bread and put them in the toaster while Aya came in and watched me, arms crossed.  "Want a piece?" I asked, pointing to the toaster.  Aya shook his head.  Come to think of it, Aya practically never ate where I could see him, and he never left the shop to buy groceries.  Briefly I wondered if he subsisted on a diet of miso soup and rice.

                The bread popped out of the toaster nicely browned, and I smothered the two slices in peanut butter.  I took a bite of my breakfast and leaned on the counter, watching Aya silently.

                Finally he said, "You look like shit."

                "Why, thank you."  I fingered my nose and discovered that the swelling had decreased significantly, but it was still very tender.  My shoulders protested every movement more loudly than the rest of me.  "The bruises are compliments of a brick wall.  A vampire was kind enough to introduce me to it."

                At the word 'vampire', Aya's features became a bit more attentive, his eyes focused.  I was reminded sharply an eagle watching its prey.  "You were attacked?"

                "Yes.  And even though I look like crap, the vampire came off on the worse end."  I finished off the first slice of toast and started on the next.  "He's dead.  I put a wooden stake through his heart and Youji blew off his head."  By speaking mechanically and focusing on my food, I managed to block out the images of the vampire's mangled corpse spilling blood onto the street.

                Aya's face registered mild surprise.  He looked vaguely impressed.  I enjoyed having Aya listen so raptly to something I had to say, so I pressed on.  "And that's not even the best part.  I met a witch.  She wanted me to do her a favor.  She thinks that it'd be just great if I'd wipe out this little group of vampires and their werewolf friends because she can't do it herself.  Isn't that nice?"  My voice was acidic.

                Aya ignored my tone and cut straight to the meat of the issue.  "You met a witch?  What was her name? What coven does she belong to?"

                I blinked at him.  "You mean there's more than one coven?"  It never occurred to me to wonder how he could know about witches.  After all, he knew all about vampires, didn't he?  I still didn't know what Aya _was, much less what sorts of knowledge he kept locked behind those pale lips of his._

                He didn't dignify my question with an answer.  "What was the witch's name?" he insisted, features locked into impassivity.

                "Why is that so important?" I asked, genuinely curious.  I swallowed the last of my toast.  "I turned her down.  I won't have anything more to do with her."

                "Give me her name, Hidaka!" his voice became icy, and he began to glare at me.

                No one can keep a secret long under one of Aya's glares, and I didn't have anything to hide.  "Okay, okay, geez.  Her name is Yumi Ryuuki.  She works at the Hot Cat Club, which is a witch's haven, in case you're curious."

                Aya looked down at his folded arms, muttering something to himself.  He looked back up at me sharply.  "You said you turned her down?"

                "Well, yeah.  She killed a young girl to christen her focus.  Her coven is almost as bad as the vampires."  I opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of orange juice, filled a glass, and replaced the carton.  "The bad news is that I made us some enemies.  The good news is I understand a little bit more about the Underground, which you so kindly refused to explain."  I looked at Aya; his eyes bored into me like drills, and his features registered anger.  "Did I do something wrong?" I asked quickly.

                "No."  Aya scowled at the fridge.  "Don't get mixed up with the witches.  Especially not with her particular coven."  He looked for a moment as if he were going to say more, but then he gave a little shake of his head and turned his eyes back on me.  "Are you going to get dressed any time soon?  We've got work!"

                Supernatural talk for the day was over, it seemed.  I gulped down my orange juice, wiped my chin with the back of my hand, and made a shooing motion with my hands.  "Go then, dammit!  I'll be down there in a minute, okay?"  I retreated to my room.

*   *   *

                A bathroom assessment told me that my left eye was a ring of bruises and my nose was a mottled run of colors ranging from yellow to black.  At least my lip was almost normal.  My shoulders were red and raw, and my chest largely a bluish hue.  It was nothing short of a miracle that I hadn't broken a rib.  My dark green t-shirt covered all the damage my torso had sustained; small cuts on my hands that I hadn't noticed before could be explained away by clumsiness with the pruning shears or something.  I took an aspirin for my headache.

                I spent the remaining morning hours fretting over Youji.  If I looked and felt like this, how was _he doing?  It was impossible to keep my mind on my work.  Luckily, there were few customers, and I didn't drop either of the two flowerpots I shattered while they were around._

                At one o'clock in the afternoon Youji made his appearance.  He had dark circles under his eyes and a ring of dark bruises across his neck and around his jaw.  His clothes covered the worst of the bruising, I was sure.  "I feel like I should be dead," he announced as he walked in the door.

                "You didn't cough up any blood overnight, did you?" I demanded, jumping to my feet.

                Youji smirked at me.  "No, Kenken, don't worry your pretty little head."  He draped himself over a chair, and I thought I saw him wince.  "It's my ribs."

                "You probably cracked them on that lamppost!  Go get some rest!"  I thought that Youji would either have to stay out of sight for a day or two or take to wearing turtlenecks.  He looked as if someone had tried to strangle him (which was pretty accurate, I suppose).  At least my bruises could be excused by a fistfight.

                "You didn't think I came down here to work, did you?"  Youji smirked again, tossing a glance at Aya, who glared coldly at both of us and resumed restocking the roses.  "I was thinking about the vampire we killed.  They're supposed to have incredible senses, right?  How come the vampire didn't notice you when you leapt on him from behind?"

                "I think Yumi said it had to do with being a Hunter," I answered, frowning slightly.  "Is that all?"

                "Not exactly.  I was also wondering if Yumi told you anything about Bethany."

                Aya looked up at us from across the room.  I watched him and bent my head toward Youji.  "I forgot to ask her!" I grumbled.  "It's a little too late, now."

                "Ah, well."  Youji sighed for lost opportunity and followed my gaze towards Aya.  He was still watching us, but trying to be inconspicuous about it.  "Is this some kind of secret from him?"  He pointed at Aya under the table.

                "Er … he and the _gaijin have some sort of connection," I answered quietly.  I didn't want to tell Youji anything more.  "It's not that important, I guess, but she really creeps me out."_

                "_Aa," Youji nodded.  He stood and stretched, grunting a little.  I could only imagine his ribs protesting.  "Well, I'm going back to bed."  He winked at me.  "If I cough up blood, I'll tell you, Kenken."_

                "Don't call me that!" I said automatically, but Youji was already sauntering out the door with a gentle laugh.

*   *   *

                Amazingly, nothing strange, supernatural, or bizarre happened all day.  Everything was so normal, in fact, that I was a little unnerved.  Somehow I felt that something very dangerous was waiting for me, but it was lying in ambush.  I was expecting disaster to strike at any minute.

At around 3:30 I abandoned the shop, not wanting to alarm the middle schoolers with my appearance.  Omi breezed into the back door of the shop just as I was preparing to leave on my motorcycle.  He stared at me, eyes wide with combined concern and horror.  "Ken-kun, what happened to you?"

"A vampire," I answered.

Although it didn't occur to me at the time, it was amazing how my mind seemed to have easily accepted their existence in the past 48 hours.  As a result, I hadn't counted on the reaction from Omi - absolute incredulity.  "What are you talking about, Ken-kun?  Did you get into a fistfight?"

It took me a moment to process the fact that Omi still didn't know a thing about recent events.  "That bastard," I muttered, thinking about Aya.  How could he have not told Omi about what had happened over the last two days?  "Didn't Aya tell you anything?  I mean, Youji was out for a day and a half … and I came back with a concussion …" I trailed off as Omi shook his head slowly.

"Aya-kun just said that Youji-kun had been badly shocked," he told me plainly.  "And you had been beaten up by a gang."  His short, blond eyebrows drew together as he frowned delicately.  "Did Aya-kun lie?"

I could understand his skepticism.  Aya never lied; he just refrained from answering.  "No, not exactly …" I shrugged.  My shoulder ached.  "He didn't tell you the whole story.  Look, I've got to go out and make a few purchases, and I want to beat the groupies."  I glanced towards the front of the shop, and Omi smiled a little.  "You can guess why.  Why don't you chase down Youji and ask him to tell you the story?  He knows everything."  I strapped on my helmet and snatched my goggles from the table I stood next to.

"Where is Youji-kun?"

"Probably sleeping.  He nearly got strangled last night by a vampire, so don't be too startled by the bruises on his neck," I warned him.

Omi's eyes widened again.  "You're not kidding about this vampire thing, are you?"

"Of course not.  I wouldn't joke about vampires - at least, not anymore."  I shuddered involuntarily.  "I'll be back around five or five-thirty, I guess.  Do me a favor and tell Youji that I'm buying him silver bullets and you silver shuriken."

Omi nodded mutely.  I ignored his surprise and straddled my motorcycle, pulling my goggles down over my eyes.  The leather jacket that I wore on our missions settled like a protective shroud over my shoulders.  My .44 was a comfortable weight in its inside pocket.  "Okay, then.  See you later!"  I gunned the engine and roared out of the garage of the _Koneko no Sumu Ie._

*   *   *

                Nothing at all will ever beat the sensation of roaring down the road in complete control of a vibrating engine under me, the wind tearing at my face and tugging at my clothes, screaming in my ears.  I loved driving my motorcycle.  I sped down the narrow streets and alleyways of Tokyo, wandering through the commercial district in search of a weapons store.

                There were several such stores to be found, and I finally settled on the least reputable-looking of the establishments.  When I walked in the front door, American alternative rock blasted my ears.  The room smelled musty and dry.  Weapons of every shape, size, and type covered the walls and counters, encased in glass, ranging from sawed-off shotguns to medieval European swords to darts the size of my thumb.

                What initially caught my attention, however, was the clerk.

                He was nondescript in every respect except that he was _gaijin.  Even this was only evidenced by his too-white skin and protruding nose; he was at least half-Japanese.  His black hair was clipped short and his dark brown eyes were focused on an English comic book, although more than one manga was stacked beside his chair next the cash register.  He was younger than I was.  He ignored my existence completely._

                He was a superhuman.

                Why was it that ever since I had encountered the vampires, every other person I met seemed to be connected to the supernatural world somehow?  I cleared my throat to get his attention.

                The boy jumped and looked up at me sharply, putting down the comic book.  "Can I help you, _ojii-san?" he asked in accented Japanese._

                I couldn't help it; I had to ask.  "Do you know a Yumi Ryuuki, by any chance?"

                He looked vaguely confused.  "No, I'm sorry; should I?"

                Relief flooded me.  "No, it's nothing," I shook my head.  "I'm just here to make some purchases.  They may seem odd."

                The boy looked at me, a tiny frown crossing his face before he smirked.  "That's what we're here for, sir," he told me.  "The stranger the purchase, the more likely we are to carry it.  Ask away."

                "I need silver bullets and 10 six-inch-long shuriken with a high silver content.  The bullets should be for a .44 handgun and a .38 pistol.  If you don't have them, I'd like to pay you to have them made."  The boy nodded, not affected at all by the odd request, and scribbled on a piece of paper in English.  I perused the guns over his head.  "And if I may, can I have a look at that shotgun, right there?" I pointed.

                The boy looked over his shoulder.  "Sure.  Hold on a second."  He jumped off the stool he sat on and retrieved the gun from its shelf for me.  "It's a Beretta, sawed-off.  Puts big holes in the body, that one."  Reverently he placed it in my hands.  "Actually, if you're going hunting, it's the best sort of weapon to use."

                I looked up at him sharply; the boy was giving me a very significant look.  "If you're going hunting, you should want a small hole," I told him quietly.

                "If you're hunting what I think you're hunting, you're hoping there won't be anything left of the body," the boy answered me just as quietly.  "Because I've seen them rise from the dead, and it isn't pretty."

                It was obvious he knew what I wanted the gun for.  "What are you?" I asked bluntly.

                "A Necromancer."  He shrugged slightly, as if it didn't matter.  "Did you want to buy the gun?"

                "Wait.  You're a Necromancer?  You can make people rise from the dead?"  I put a hand on his arm to stop him from pulling away.

                The boy looked up at me, his eyes seeming too wise for his face.  "What, you think that's cool?  It's spooky.  I accidentally raised a woman in my sleep once who died fifty years ago, and her body was so rotted she had to claw her way to my room.  She didn't have any legs left, but since I called her, she came."  He shuddered and stared at his hands.  "There is nothing cool about being part of the Underground.  Ever.   We compose all of the spooks, evils, and freaks of the natural world."  He looked back up at me.  "What about you?  What are you?  How did you find this place, and how did you know I was different?"

                "Well, for one thing, you know what I'd want silver bullets for," I pointed out.  He blushed.  "But for another, I can feel it, though I'm kind of new to all of this.  I was just driving by this place and saw it, so I don't know why you're wondering how I found it.  And to answer your first question, I've been told I'm a Hunter, whatever that means."  I heard myself confessing all this easily, and I realized I felt a certain kinship with this boy.

                "It means you're rare, like me."  The boy had a faraway look in his eyes.  "Watch out.  The more common spooks will seek you out."

                "They already have," I told him dryly.  "If witches can be considered common."

                The boy grabbed my arm urgently.  "Don't work with them! Any of them!  It will turn you inside out.  Let them fight amongst themselves."

                I tilted my head to look at the pleading features of the boy.  "You seem very certain."

                "There are worse things than death, and I have seen them."  He took a deep breath and released my arm.  "You couldn't have found this place if you weren't special.  I keep practically nothing but silver bullets in stock.  Six-inch silver shuriken I don't have; give me two days and they'll be ready.  I have four-inch ones in the meantime.  Will that do?"  I nodded.  "All right.  Do you still want the shotgun?"  I nodded again.  "Okay, let me ring them up."  He took the gun from my hands.  "I'll give you twenty silvers – silver bullets, that is – for the shotgun free.  Witches are bad, but vampires are worse.  Hang tight to your sanity."

                The bill was sizable, but not unmanageable.  "Stop by again, if you can," the boy requested.

                "I will," I promised, walking back outside.

                It wasn't until much later that I realized I didn't even know the boy's name.

*   *   *

                "All right, Aya," I began awkwardly.  "I have a favor to ask."

                His impassive violet eyes looked right through me.  "What?"

                "I know you're not actually part of this mission," I said, fidgeting, "but I was wondering if you could just, uh … uh, use your magic to, well, find the vampires for us."

                It was the day after I had met the strange boy in the hidden shop.  Omi was completely updated, and by the time I had gotten back from my shopping trip, he went pale every time the word 'vampire' crossed someone's lips.  Despite this, Youji, Omi and I held a short conference that very night in the basement of the flower shop on the subject of how to go about killing targets that were A)non-human, and B)a hell of a lot stronger than us.

                "Vampires sleep during the day, right?" Youji had asked me.

                "Some of them do," I answered hesitantly.  "Miki and Stacey didn't."

                Youji had shivered, shrugging his shoulders uneasily.  "That's right."

                "We can't just keep waiting for them to attack us!" Omi had exclaimed.  "If we keep that up, someone will be killed."

                "Then we go on the offensive.  But how?" Youji asked, taking a drag on his cigarette.  At the time I wondered how he could look so relaxed after his injuries.  Either he was on a ton of painkillers or he was the world's best actor_.  Maybe a combination of both, I decided._

                Omi had been silent; I had no ideas, either.  We all stared at our laps until suddenly Omi had said brightly, "If the vampires travel in groups, then they probably have a place where they all meet.  If we find that place, we can attack them all at once!"

                "I'm thrilled," Youji had said in a flat voice.  "One vampire at a time is plenty, Omicchi."

                "No …" I paused.  "If we could just find that place in the middle of the day!  All vampires 'sleep the sleep of the dead for some portion of the day', according to Yumi.  They probably meet in the same place they sleep.  If we came while even just a few of them were in their coffins safe and sound, we could kill them before they woke up and face off with the rest.  Maybe we could even get away with just sneaking in."  Omi had nodded as I spoke.

                "Something's been bothering me about these vampires, Ken," Youji had then confessed.

                "What?"

                "What do they need to hire the werewolves for?  They're plenty strong on their own," he had pointed out.

                I had nodded thoughtfully, thumbing my chin.  "I dunno …"

                "For when they're all asleep."  Youji and I had both looked up to stare at Omi as he spoke.  He looked back and forth between the two of us.  "They can defend themselves just fine when they're awake, so the werewolves must guard them when they're sleeping."

                "That explains a lot," Youji had observed cheerfully.

                "Omi, that's brilliant," I told the 17-year-old reverently.

                Sometimes Omi was incredibly adult-like, but at the moment he just beamed ecstatically.  "We'll find the vampire hideout, then wait for the werewolves alone to guard them.  We'll put them to sleep, then take care of the vampires inside," he said, outlining a very general plan.

                "Wait; I can foresee one problem," Youji had said, holding up his hand.

                "What?" Omi and I asked in unison.

                "How on earth are we going to find the hideout?  I don't fancy trying to shadow a vampire," he cautioned.

                And of course, Youji had been absolutely right.  Which was why I was standing here now, asking Aya for help.

                I looked up at him hopefully.  "So, will you help us?"

                "I can't."  Aya's voice was flat.

                I blinked.  "Huh?"

                "My blood rites have been suspended.  I have no magic to use."

                I flashed back to standing in Bethany's office, staring at her while she rattled off confusing charges against Aya.  "What the hell is Bethany-san to you?" I demanded.  "How come she can take away your magic?"

                Aya gave me his Don't Pry glare and turned away from me.

                "Okay, okay, I won't ask," I said in exasperation.  "But we don't have a chance unless we find them.  They'll kill us – you should know that, dammit!  You knew about the vampires before any of us ever did!"

                "I can't help you."  Aya's voice said that this was the final word.

                I raked my hair back with my hand.  "Do you think Bethany-san would let you use magic if the cause was right?" I asked.

                "Perhaps."  Everything about Aya's posture and attitude said that I was treading on possibly suicidal ground, but I was desperate enough to not care.

                "Fine.  Take me back to her, or at least point me towards her office building.  I'll plead on my hands and knees for your blood rites if it'll get you back your magic so you can find the goddamned monsters," I said.

                Actually, I didn't want to ever go anywhere near Bethany again, but Aya was our last and only hope.  If pleading to Bethany was what it took, than I would plead to Bethany.

                Aya shut his eyes and rubbed them with his thumb and forefinger as if fighting off a headache.  I'd never seen Aya do something so – well, _normal – as that before.  "Do as you please."  He left the room._

                I gaped after him for a moment.  "No, you don't understand," I finally began, following him.  "I don't have the directions to Bethany-san's place.  You'll have to take me there or give me directions."

                Aya was writing something.  He made an assenting noise after I spoke, then thrust what he was scribbling into my chest.  I grunted inadvertently from the impact and stared at the slip.  It was directions.  "I'll help you if you get Bethany-sama to grant me my blood rites again," he said as I looked at him gratefully.  "But I want a slice of your check for each vampire you kill," he added.

                I would have agreed to anything at that point, and the money really wasn't the issue to me anyway.  Kritiker would pay my bills if things absolutely fell apart.  "Sure, whatever you want, Aya," I promised.  "_Ja!"_

*   *   *

                This time I came armed.  My .44 Smith and Wesson, now loaded with silver bullets, sat very comfortably in the inner breast pocket of my leather jacket.  I didn't really expect to shoot anything, but I felt more comfortable having that dead weight against my chest.

                The secretary in the lobby looked up at me as I approached, and I remembered my bruising.  I probably looked like a street hoodlum to her.  "Excuse me, but who are you here for?" she asked sharply.

                "Bethany Gramm.  She may know I'm coming."  I had a vague hunch that what Aya knew, she often found out.  If Aya hadn't called her to warn her of my arrival, I would have been surprised.

                The secretary blinked at me, then asked, "Are you Ken Hidaka?"

                "Yes."  _Bingo._

                "Can I please see some ID?" she asked skeptically.

                I couldn't blame her.  I freed my wallet from the back pocket of my jeans and showed her my motorcycle license.  She nodded slowly.  "Well, it all checks out … you may go, Hidaka-san, Gramm-san is waiting for you."

                I replaced my wallet, bowed slightly, and raced to the elevator.

                At the 81st floor I got out and speed-walked to the secretary's desk.  The bodyguard was the same one as last time; he glanced at me and opened the heavy oak door he stood in front of.  "Ms. Gramm is waiting," he said generously.  I just nodded to him and walked inside.

                Bethany was seated at her desk, reading a report.  Her suit today was a white dress shirt covered by a black coat and completed by black slacks.  As I entered, she looked up at me as if surprised.  "Hidaka-san, so nice to see you again, and so soon," she smiled, standing and holding out her hand.  It took me a moment to register that she wanted to shake my hand in the American fashion.  I refrained, bowing instead.  Bethany frowned slightly and sat back down.   "So then, how are things at the _Koneko no Sumi Ie?  Enjoying the teenaged admirers?"_

                I stared at her.  "Just how much does Aya tell you?" I demanded.

                She just smiled at me.  "He actually tells me very little.  You'd be amazed, however, how much I know."

                _What the hell does that mean? I wondered incredulously, forcing myself to be calm.  Bethany was so powerful it was overwhelming.  Tightening my lips, I cut straight to the meat of the issue.  "Look, I don't know how much you know about what's going on, but you probably know at least as much as me.  Do me a favor and don't play dumb so I can just ask what I want to ask and get on with it."  I had never spoken so rudely to a __gaijin in my life; I was a little startled by my own boldness._

                Bethany's eyebrows rose as I spoke until they seemed they would touch her hairline.  "You are smarter than you seem, Hidaka-san," she said.  "Please, sit."

                I glanced at the chairs.  "No, thank you.  Let me just ask."  I bowed deeply.  "Bethany-san, please let Aya have the use of his blood rites!  We need his magic to seek out the vampires."

                Bethany's eyes bored into me, and I didn't dare raise my eyes to look at her.  The air felt heavy the same way it had the first time I came.  This time, though, I recognized it for the supernatural suppression it was.  "What vampires do you seek out?" she asked in a regal tone.

                "I don't know the name of the coven.  There's five of them left, and two werewolves," I told her freely.  _When asking a favor of the wolf, don't give them a reason to eat you._

                "Ah.  I know what you speak of."  I heard Bethany settling further into her chair.  "Stop bowing like that, Hidaka-san, you make Americans like me nervous."  I didn't think Bethany wasn't nervous at all, but I obeyed anyway.  "You wish to wipe them out?  Please do.  In fact, I would be grateful."  She smiled.  It was a very feral smile.

                I felt nervousness like a weight in the pit of my stomach again.  The idea that I would be aiding Bethany at all made me sick.  I licked my lips.  "Why should they matter to you?  What do you have to do with the vampires?"

                Bethany's gaze sharpened.  "That's no concern of yours, Hidaka-san."

                I had heard that one too many times.  "Everything about you concerns me," I shot back at her, forgetting to guard my words.

                Sculpted eyebrows rose.  "Really?"  She leaned back in her chair.

                I felt like I'd handed her my best card in a game of poker, but it was too late now.  I wondered if I was playing into her hands as I demanded, "What the hell are you?"

                It was as if I had opened Pandora's box.  Bethany frowned.  There was a palpable change in the atmosphere of the room, and Bethany rose slowly from her chair.  I stiffened instinctively, but I couldn't look away from her boring eyes.  "Do you truly want to know, Hidaka-san?" she asked in an oddly deep, booming voice.  "Or was that an ignorant question?"

                If a thunderstorm had risen behind her and flashed lightning, she couldn't have been more ominous.  There was nothing even remotely pleasant about this … thing … before me – and it was more evident every moment that Bethany – no, _Bel'uah – was not a 'she' – just a 'thing'.  It took all of my courage to stand my ground, swallow, and manage, "Yes … I-I want to know. Tell me."_

                And that suddenly, her power broke.  Bethany jerked back slightly, and room returned to the heavy feeling it had before.  The death in her eyes faded.  And again, she was just Bethany, the nonhuman.  She looked curiously at me for a moment and said, very simply, "No.  It is not your business to know such things."  She sat back down.

Again, Bethany had succeeded in leaving me dumbfounded.  I cleared my throat and tried not to think about it.  "S-So, you'll return to Aya his blood rites?" I stammered, shoving my trembling hands into my pockets.

                As if nothing had happened, she nodded.  "Gladly."  She waved her hand, and something – I had no idea what – left the room.  I didn't see it, and I couldn't sense it normally; it was about as real as the heaviness of the air around me.  "It is done.  Come back to me when you have killed the vampires."

                "Maybe," I told her.  She laughed.

                "Oh no, Hidaka-san," she said ominously.  "You _will come back to see me."_

                I glared at her, said my polite (and stammered) goodbye, and left with no intention of ever returning.

                What I didn't know at the time was that her prediction, whether I was dead or alive, would come true.

*   *   *

Author's notes:  Well, here it is – the new and improved version of Part Five.  ::snorts:: There may be a few subtle differences, but the main point was to correct the (severely shortened) conversation between Ken and Bethany.  Bethany is far scarier now.  ^^x;;;

Thanks especially to Silver Angel for being honest and telling me this section was hurried.  ^^x  Constructive criticism is always appreciated.

Vikki: ::holding a wooden bat:: Time to go beat up Evan!

Youji: ::blanching:: Why?

Vikki:  Because he keeps on laughing at my work!

Youji: O.o;;; I think he's trying to get _you_ to laugh, Vikki.

Vikki:  9.9 Whatever.  Come here, Evan!  I'm going to smack you for your bad puns now!

Youji:  O.o

Thanks for reviewing!

~~Vikki


	6. Part Six

_Dream of Crimson – Part VI_

_By Vikki_

Disclaimer: You all know the routine … I don't feel like repeating it. It's too painful. ::sob::

Flame Policy: I'll EAT you! ::smirk::

Pre-author's notes: Sorry this took so long to post! Life is much calmer now, though … thanks for all your reviews!

*   *   *

                The next day at noon, Aya showed us his focus.

                "Your katana … is your focus?"  Youji sounded incredulous and was unsuccessfully trying to hide a smile.

                Aya glared holes into him.  "Do you have a problem with it?"

                Youji snickered, swallowed, and managed, "No … I'm just thinking about the connotations …"

                "Youji-kun!" Omi scolded, blushing.  I could feel the heat in my cheeks, too.

                "What? Just think about it for a second," Youji shrugged, turning his palms toward the sky.

                "I _am, Youji-kun, and it's not that funny," came the reply as Omi's ears began to take on a color similar to the one in his cheeks._

                We were sitting around the table in the back of the flower shop – actually, Omi and Aya were sitting at the table while I leaned against the counter and Youji perched on a stool.  Aya's katana rested on the table.  Youji's bruises were fading quickly, although he still winced when he moved very quickly.  My shoulders, head, and chest still ached, but my nose was almost completely yellow (as opposed to black) and my black eye was fading almost as fast.

                Aya looked murderous – not that this was incredibly unusual, but it made me begin to worry that he would change his mind about helping us.  I doubted it would perturb him much that we might get killed if he didn't help.  "Er, let's get started, okay?"

                Youji sobered and Omi's color slowly returned to normal as Aya stared at me.  "Since we have no trace of the vampires, we need a memory.  The blood acts as a memory because it carries your entire life in it."  He looked significantly at me.  "You're the one who has seen the vampires and remembers them.  To find them, there will be a blood price exacted."

                I frowned slightly and crossed my arms.  "Are you telling me you need my blood?"

Aya just looked at me meaningfully, which was the closest I would get to a 'yes' out of him. I took a deep breath.  "Are you sure?" I asked, trying very hard not to wince.  Aya just continued to look at me.  I sighed and stepped forward, holding out my bare forearm.  "Okay.  Okay.  Just cut it quickly."  _Oh, god, why me, why me?  Was what I was __really thinking, but I had too much pride to show that I was scared.  Sure, I had been cut up during missions, but I never did it intentionally, nor had I ever been slashed along a vein that was so … well, vital.  Tapping into the lifestream sucked._

Aya picked up his katana off the table and laid it against the inside of my wrist.

Suddenly Omi jerked out of his seat.  "Wait a minute!"

Youji gave Omi a look that was combined sympathy and annoyance.  "Now is a bad time to get cold feet, Omicchi."

"Yeah," I chimed in, laughing nervously.  "Really, this isn't that bad compared to being, uh, completely drained of blood by a vampire or something, right?"

Omi turned a little white, but said, "No, that's not it.  We just need the First Aid kit so we can mop Ken up afterwards …" he looked as if he was steeling himself.  "I'll be right back."  He disappeared out the door, and we could hear him clattering downstairs to the room where we met Manx.  I took the opportunity to take deep breaths and practice not trembling.

Omi returned, First Aid kit in hand; Aya looked at me.  "Ready?"

I took a deep breath and held it, nodding.

Aya cut my wrist so quickly I didn't quite feel the pain until after the cut was made.  Blood welled up almost immediately and dripped over my fist and onto the table; Aya then promptly cut his own thumb and pressed the wound into my blood.  He shut his eyes and began to mutter in a language I didn't recognize.  I wasn't paying much attention; I was concentrating on my blood, which was strangely fascinating.

It wasn't long until my vision began to get fuzzy, along with my hearing.  I was vaguely aware of Omi and Youji supporting me by the elbows while my blood just kept pouring on the table and Aya rubbed his fingers in it and his sword glowed a faint purple sheen.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Aya looked up at me and said, "All right."  It was all the encouragement Omi and Youji needed; Omi pressed a wet towel against my wrist and directed Youji to apply pressure to my arm just above my wrist.  I watched, still fascinated, as my blood slowly soaked the towel, before I passed out.

*   *   *

I woke up on the floor, my arm throbbing.  Omi was at my side, wrapping gauze around my wrist.  Aya was sitting on the stool now.  Youji was sitting on a chair; he looked to be in a little pain, and I slowly realized that I was clutching his fingers with a death grip.  I unwound my fingers and let my arm fall to my side.  "Uh …" I began intelligently.

"You used my hand as your stress ball when Omi started stitching up the cut," Youji explained.  "You bleed a lot.  That's the last time we cut open _your wrist."  He smirked slightly._

"You fainted for about 20 minutes, Ken-kun," Omi added.  "And Aya says he knows where the vampires are."

I looked at Aya.  Aya shrugged.  I was about to press the issue, but Omi interrupted, "Let's go to the vampires now, when the sun is hottest."

I sat up slowly and shook my head when I experienced a wave of dizziness.  "That's as intelligent a time to track them down as any I heard.  Youji?"

"Ready as always."  Youji grinned at me.  "I elect Siberian as mission leader this time.  Bombay?"

Omi grinned.  "A good idea, Balinese."

I was embarrassed.  "Thanks – I think," I corrected myself.  "Uh … well, let's get to wherever they are and take it from there, okay?"

Youji produced a cigarette from nowhere (as he often did) and lit it, grinning at me as he let out a breath of smoky air and rose to his feet again.  "As you wish, Kenken."

"Geez, stop calling me that!  I'm going to start calling you Yo-tan!" I threatened ineffectually as I shakily returned to my feet.

Youji just laughed as he left the shop to change into his assassin gear.

*   *   *

                Aya said that he couldn't simply give us the directions to the vampire safehouse – he had to lead us there.  Apparently this location spell was more of a homing beacon than a real set of directions in Aya's head.

                The day wasn't too warm, which was good because even though I hadn't put on my claw yet, and Omi hadn't assembled his crossbow, and Youji – well, okay, so Youji's weapon was always inconspicuous – we still looked pretty funny; we were wearing long sleeves and gloves and other strange things, being four men dressed to kill, quite literally.  Only Aya looked really dangerous though, for he gripped his katana's handle as if ready to whip out the sword and kill someone at any instant.  He only glared at Omi when the seventeen-year-old tried to get him to stop looking so fierce.  Youji observed that Aya probably was incapable of looking any less fierce than he did right then, and he and Aya nearly engaged in an all-out fistfight before Omi succeeded in convincing Aya to keep concentrating on finding the vampires.

                Tensions were running very high; our not-so-tight knit fabric that made us Weiss was tearing, badly – mostly because Aya obviously had a potentially dangerous secret involving Bethany and the rest of the Underworld, but also because Youji, Omi, and I were all pretty sure that we were walking towards death, or at least a lot of suffering.

                We didn't know how right we were.

                Aya pointed out the house to us when we were a block away.  We passed Aya to poke our heads around the corner and examine it.  It was a run-down building, abandoned for years by the look of it.  A muscular man loitered nearby, his greasy brown locks streaked with green dye and a long gold earring dangling from his ear, not unlike Aya's.

                "Werewolf," I forewarned both Omi and Youji as I watched the man flick cigarette ash from the glowing butt.

                Even as I spoke, the werewolf looked straight at us.

                Immediately Youji straightened, ran his fingers through his hair, and nonchalantly began to stroll away, muttering, "Meet at the opposite corner in ten."  Omi, ever the professional, acted similarly.  I think I gaped at the werewolf for a second or two before managing to speed-walk around the corner as if I had somewhere else to be, and quickly.

                I should have known that it wouldn't really work.

                I passed the spot where Youji, Omi, and I had passed Aya and noticed immediately that Aya was not where he had been only a minute before; he had disappeared completely, leaving not even a trace of his non-human feeling for me to detect.  _Bastard, I thought angrily.  I had the sinking feeling that somehow Aya's alternating openness and willingness to help followed by sudden, apparent betrayal had to do with Bethany and their strange connection.  Which brought something else to mind: Bethany had __shown me this connection, knowing full well that I had a good chance of putting two and two together eventually.  What was she planning?  However she wanted me to act, I was determined to surprise and disappoint her.  It was almost a more consuming issue than killing this vampire coven—_

                My sixth sense alerted me suddenly that a non-human, not friendly, was very near, just before said non-human introduced himself by leaping out of apparently nowhere to drop on my shoulders from above.  I crumpled under the sudden weight, my ankle twisting under me, and hit the pavement hard, cracking the back of my skull against the sidewalk in the exact place Stacey had pounded my head into a brick wall.  My vision exploded in bright lights and white pain and I couldn't see for an excruciating second or two before my sight cleared enough for me to see the thing on top of me.  It was, predictably, the werewolf guarding the vampire safehouse, only now he had his fangs bared and he drooled just a little and pinned me as if his most natural position was on all fours like a dog.  "What business do you have here?" he demanded, his horrid, cigarette-smelling breath choking me.

                Sometimes I really think God has it in for me.

                "It's not with you," I managed, coughing.  "I'm just going to the Tokyo University—"

                "Liar!" the werewolf snarled.  "You are a Hunter, are you not?  You will find that you are not immune to me as you are to vampires!"  Abruptly he lowered his nose to my neck, sniffing.  I shuddered and began to struggle.  The werewolf drew away and half-sneered, half bared his teeth at me.  "You are the one who killed Dante!"

                That must have been the vampire that Youji and I killed.  Vaguely I was sickened to think that any scent from the vampire remained on me, but I decided that the longer I could delay the werewolf's wrath from being acted upon, the better chance I had of Youji or Omi coming to the rescue.  So I groped my mind for smart-alecky things that Youji might say in such a situation.  "Oh, what _that the vampire's name?  Pretty clumsy, falling to a rookie like me.  And where were __you, anyway?  Aren't you supposed to be their guardian?"_

                I could feel his unnaturally sharp fingernails driving against my leather jacket and digging painfully into my arms as he lowered his face so close to mine I couldn't see anything but his deep brown eyes.  "I am no failure.  You are a fool.  I will rip your beating heart from your chest and watch the life drain from your body, then lap up your blood."

                That was a pretty big threat, and I had no doubt he could do it.  I realized that much to my dismay I was trembling.  I determined to put out that I was braver than I felt and dared something that I wasn't even sure would have any effect on the non-human.  I kneed him in the groin.

                The werewolf got a funny expression on his face as he went white and froze, his grip loosening.  I scrambled out from underneath him and went for the .44 Smith & Wesson inside my jacket pocket, but my twisted ankle refused to support my weight, causing me to stagger.

                That moment was all that the werewolf needed to recover.  He launched himself at me, hands going to my gun and his jaws closing on my throat, like some sort of intelligent dog.  He weighed a lot more than I did and I stumbled backwards and fell on my elbows from the momentum of his body smashing into mine.  His fangs pierced my neck and his fingers crushed my hands against my gun, which I was suddenly and terrifyingly aware was pointed at my own groin.  Learning from past mistakes, the werewolf rendered my legs useless by hooking them in his own.  I was effectively pinned; terrified, I did what as a general rule I avoided: I screamed.  "Balinese!  Bombay! Get over here and _help me!"_

                The werewolf growled and tightened his teeth on my throat, cutting off my air.  I shut my eyes and struggled helplessly against his far superior strength.  I felt one of his hands rise up my chest as he pressed it against my breast, over my thudding heart.

                _He's really going to do it!_

                With a sudden rush of terror-sustained adrenaline, I wrenched my arms and one leg from his grip and placed them squarely on his torso.  Power coursed through my limbs as I shoved against him, and much to my surprise, despite his weight and strength, he very nearly flew off of me, slamming his back into the brick wall opposite us.  He groaned, stunned, as I staggered to my feet and mindlessly grabbed my gun off the ground.

                I emptied six shots into his chest, watching as his body jerked against the wall with the impact of each bullet and finally slid down to the pavement, leaving a red smear of blood down the bricks.  Still shaking from exertion and fear, I kept my gun trained on him, half-expecting the werewolf to stand and fling himself at me again.

                I had seen crazier things.

                Finally I decided that he wasn't going to rise from the dead and put away my gun slowly, just as Youji appeared running around the corner, closely followed by Omi.

                "Heard the shots," Youji said breathlessly.  I supposed that meant he hadn't heard my scream, so I didn't ask.  He turned his head and peered at the body.  "You killed him?"

                "Let's hope," I answered in a trembling voice.  I took a deep breath.  "Radios go on now.  Who knows where the other werewolf is lurking, and if the vampires are waking up -"

                "Point," Youji agreed, tapping his ear.

                Omi grabbed my jacket and hauled me to one knee so he could glare critically at my neck.  "Did he _bite you, Siberian?"_

                Abruptly I remembered that Yumi had said that a werewolf bite could turn me into a werewolf.  _Like I needed one more thing to worry about!  I thought angrily.  __Oh, well.  Silly to worry about something you can't stop, and I don't even know if I'll be effected anyway.  "Well, yeah, but he's a werewolf, so I guess it's to be expected -"_

                "That's gross," Omi cut me off and expressed his disgust.  "Wash that out tonight."

                _Assuming we get that far, I didn't say.  I just stared at the body for a moment.  The werewolf was really huge, at least as tall as Youji and twice as large.  How had I flung him off of me so easily?_

                Yumi's words came back to me - _perhaps a bit of inhuman strength if you're lucky.  "A __bit of inhuman strength my ass," I muttered.  Unless maybe I __was a werewolf and the creature had imparted his strength to me.  I shuddered._

                "What was that, Siberian?"

                "Nothing, Bombay.  Let's go."

*   *   *

                "Okay.  We think the vampires are sleeping, right?"  Youji and Omi nodded.  "Then the question is, do we split up to cover the ground faster, or do we stay together and take longer, but feel safer?"

                "The sooner we're out of this hellhole, the better," Youji cast his vote.  "Besides, the radios should keep us in contact."

                Omi shook his head.  "If even one of the vampires is awake, we could be killed before we could get out a warning," he cautioned.

                It looked like I had to cast the deciding vote.  I took a moment before replying, "I say we split up.  Supposing the vampires are asleep for the moment, we don't know how much longer that will be the case.  The sooner they're found and killed in their sleep, the better."

                Omi nodded a little shakily, a determined look in his face.  Before I could think of anything to say, Youji's hand fell on Omi's shoulder.  "You'll be fine, Omicchi," Youji observed in a whisper.  "You're too cute to kill, you know."

                Omi smiled wanly.  "I think we're ready, Siberian."

                "All right.  I'll take the basement.  You and Youji can decide how to split up the other two floors."

                We crept silently up to the house and went our separate ways at the door.

*   *   *

                The basement was dark and creepy, just like in the all the horror films where a ghost pops out from around the corner to make the hero or heroine scream.  I was more than just a little jumpy; I held my gun as if it were life itself (which was accurate enough), feeling the sweat against the rubber grip in my fingers.  My ankle throbbed slightly, but I was so nervous I barely noticed it.

                Most of the room I was in was full of wine bottles in racks - old vintage wine from France and California and the like.  It made an effective maze, and every time I heard a sound, I froze, listening carefully.  But there were no fabled coffins or even sleeping bodies, only a vague sense of something non-human in the vicinity, without direction and without number.  It left me paranoid and frustrated with the alarm system my sixth sense seemed to have set up.

                It was in this state that I felt a hand on my shoulder.  I jumped skyward, barely stifling a yell and whipping around my gun to shoot my attacker regardless of identity when it whispered, "Cool it, Siberian!  It's me.  Bombay's coming, too."

                I put up my gun and drew a shuddering breath, recognizing the shadowy figure next to me as Youji.  "Someday you're going to get shot doing that," I snarled without much bite.  "Why didn't you radio?"

                "I turned it off.  Couldn't hear with that thing crackling, even a little, in my ear.  This place just exudes 'haunted', doesn't it?"

                Now that I thought about it, that sense of power, much like the one I felt around Bethany except less repressive, hung over this tiny Tokyo townhouse.  "Yeah, it does …"

                "Siberian, Balinese!"  My radio, which I had not turned off, crackled, causing me to jump in surprise again.  It was Omi's voice.  "I've found something on the first floor, under the stairs.  Come here!"

                "_Hai," I responded automatically.  Youji looked at me quizzically, and I relayed the information to him as we jogged up the stairs while I winced every step._

                Omi waited for us calmly, and as soon as I saw him, I felt a profound relief.  I abruptly thought that maybe it had been a mistake to split up in the first place; it was far less stressful to stay together.  Omi smiled slightly at us then beckoned us to the base of the stairs.  "Look.  A hidden door," he pointed.  "The cracks around its perimeter are pretty clean, so it's been used recently."

                I had to peer at the ornate woodwork closely to see the small crack in the design, forming a rectangle that I could step through if I hunched over.  I straightened and let Youji look, turning to Omi.  "Great job, Bombay."

                Omi smiled slightly again just as Youji nodded to Omi as well.  "So, how do we open this up?"

                Omi shrugged slightly.  "I'm not entirely sure.  It has to swing inward, though, to hide the hinges."

                I touched the door, running my fingers along its edges.  A cool breeze seemed to waft from the crack.  "I'll bet it leads to a cellar or something," I observed.  "The air is cool."

                "That still doesn't tell us how to open it," Youji pointed out.  He gently pushed me out of the way and began to fiddle with the door himself.  I turned back to Omi.

                "Did you try pushing it?" I asked.

                Omi nodded and replied, "All around the perimeter.  There must be some sort of secret catch, or a spot to press, or a key -"

                "_Oi, Bombay, give me one of your shuriken," Youji suddenly interrupted._

                Omi blinked, but he complied.  "Why do you …?"

                He trailed off as Youji took the shuriken from Omi and began to work the blade through the cracks all around the door.  Suddenly he frowned then shoved the blade upwards; I heard metal grating, and then the door abruptly swung inward, letting out a breath of cool air from the set of concrete stairs it opened to.

                Youji grinned triumphantly and handed the shuriken back to Omi.  "Inside catch - just a matter of breaking it or lifting it off the hatch."  Omi and I must have looked surprised, because Youji smirked openly and ruffled Omi's hair, causing the boy to pull away indignantly.  Youji sobered then and looked down the stairs, saying, "But for the catch to be set, someone has to be inside."

                "They must be down there, then," I muttered, my stomach twisting itself into a little knot.  I heard Omi swallow next to me.  Stubbornly I determined to be brave.  "All right, then.  Let's go.  Ready?"

                "As I'll ever be," Youji replied, showing for the first time his own nervousness.  Omi just nodded, not taking his eyes from the narrow stairway.

                I sucked in my breath and stepped through the small door, trying not to make a noise on the cool concrete.  "Then let's go."

*   *   *

                At the bottom of the stairs was another, normal door.  Omi motioned me to stillness when I grabbed the knob and pointed at the exposed hinges; this door would swing out on us.  Omi freed a small greasy rag from somewhere in his several layers of assassin gear and began to rub the hinges so they wouldn't squeak.  After a few moments of this, he stepped back again, pulled out three shuriken for each hand, and nodded to me.  Youji released the safety from his gun.  I cocked my own gun, wished I could have concealed the Beretta and taken it along, and opened the door.

                Nothing happened.

                Blinking, I peered in the door, letting my eyes adjust fully to the dim light.  The room was concrete and bare; three steps down from the door we stood in led into the room.  The only things inside the room were coffins – six coffins lined up neatly, in a row.

                "Damn.  We've found it," Youji observed from over my shoulder.  Then, much to my surprise, he lit a cigarette!

                "You – Balinese!" I hissed.  "What – why –"

                "Hey, I can have a last smoke, can't I?"  Youji smirked, then pointed into a corner of the room.  "I smell gasoline."

                I sniffed the air and peered at the dark corner Youji had indicated.  Indeed, an almost too-convenient stand of gasoline cans rested there, and I understood what the cigarette was for.  Sometimes, just when luck seemed to be swinging against us, it swung back.  "Burn them out instead of shoot them in their sleep?" I asked.

                "It's not as loud," Youji observed, "And it eliminates cleanup, too."

                Omi, meanwhile, was pushing the coffin lids off of the caskets.  I gazed at him questioningly, and Omi whispered, "Making sure they're all here.  You killed one, right?  There should be five –"

                Seeing the wisdom of this, Youji and I nodded to each other and began to pull lids off with some effort and as little noise as possible.

                Three empty coffins – no sign of Miki or Stacey.

                "This isn't good," I observed quietly, looking at one of the three resting bodies.  It really did appear as if the vampire inside was dead – she wasn't even breathing, her arms crossed over her chest and her back ramrod straight.  It wasn't a natural sleeping position at all.  Yumi had been right about 'sleeping the sleep of the dead'.

                Youji was already dragging out a drum of gasoline; it made a horrible scraping noise that made us all cringe and look at the exposed vampires for any response.  When nothing happened, we relaxed marginally and Youji said, "Let's get this over with before they wake up or Miki and Stacey come home, then!"

                There was no quiet way to do this, but it seemed that the vampires would not wake up to any noise (I would have sworn that the scraping drum was fit to wake the dead, but I was obviously wrong).  Omi and I dragged out a second drum while Youji tipped his own drum on its side and pulled out the cork.  He proceeded to roll it noisily around the coffins, spilling gasoline as he went.  "Fast as we can," I called over the noise, tipping our own drum.  With each minute I felt an increasing dread that the vampires would awaken.  We worked swiftly and as silently as possible, therefore, for what seemed an eternity as I warily watched the bodies.  "We should have just shot them," I muttered.  "Much faster."

                Omi laid a hand on my forearm.  "We'll be fine, Siberian."

                "I hope so," I grumbled.  "Think that's enough?"

                The coffins, the bodies, and the concrete floor were covered in gasoline.  Youji gave me a thumbs-up sign.  "I think so."

                "Then light the damn fire already!" I hissed, all patience gone.  Whether from paranoia or from my sixth sense standing on end in the presence of vampires, I was certain the vampires were going to wake up at any second.  I grabbed Omi's hand and pulled him to the door.  "Go!"

                There was a moan from inside one of the coffins.

                Youji jumped visibly.  I grabbed his sleeve and yanked him towards the door.  "Be good and light the fire!" I snarled once we stood in the doorway.

                A vampire with blond, short curls began to sit up.  I hustled Omi towards the stairs, but he would not by budged from the doorway as he stared at the awakening vampire with wide blue eyes. "Go, Balinese, dammit, just do it," I begged, but Youji just watched the vampire as if transfixed.

                She focused on us.  "Who …?" she began, eyes looking remarkably innocent for an instant before they narrowed at me, turning into flashing blue slits.  "Hunter!" she shrieked, beginning to rise further.  "How dare you enter our lair -!"

                "_Now, Youji!" I gave up on code names and in desperation struck Youji's cheek._

                He woke up.  There was no other word for it; his eyes cleared and he blinked, shaking his head.  "Wha-?"  Then he apparently saw the vampire leaping at us because he suddenly took his cigarette from between his teeth and flung it at her.  "Not today, miss," he smirked, calm as ever.

                The vampire screeched to a halt as the cigarette sailed in a wide arc towards her and barely missed searing her skin.  Instead, the glowing butt landed in the gas at her feet.

                Instantly the room sprang into flames.

                The vampire screamed in agony; I shielded my face from the flames and tried to push Omi up the stairs, but he would not be budged.  Finally giving up, I picked up the smaller assassin and flung him over my shoulder.  "Come on, Youji!" I shouted over the roar of the fire and the shrieks of the dying vampire.

                Youji, returned to normal despite that strange, short interlude, was now automatically taking the lead.  He flung the door leading to the inferno shut and loped up the stairs on long legs.  Leaden with Omi's dead weight, my injured ankle took up its protest again and I stumbled after him.  Choking smoke leaked out from downstairs, and Youji shut the hidden door after me as well just as we heard the roar of spreading fire.  We hustled out the door and back onto the relatively quiet sidewalk.

                Smoke was beginning to float out the front windows of the townhouse when I shifted Omi to my back and looked up at the building.  "The whole thing is going to burn down," Youji observed breathlessly.  I just nodded, still catching my breath and watching our handiwork.

                Finally I was able to say, "Youji, you uh … did you know that you kinda, um, tranced out for a second there?"

                Youji blinked at me.  "I what?"

                "You were out of it.  Like when you met Miki.  And now Omi's out cold."  I jiggled him a little, but Omi just let his head loll, eyes still wide but body heavy as if he was slumbering.  "It's like you were rolled under without even looking into the vampire's eyes …"

                Youji looked uneasy.  "Strong vampire," he observed.

                Suddenly I wasn't so sure the one that had awoken was dead.  I peered at the house as if hoping it would give me answers.  A flame licked the window.

                "Hey you!"

                I started and twisted around to see an approaching policeman across the street.  I glanced back at the house and put two and two together.  "Oh, shit.  You think Persia'll bail us out of jail if we're charged with arson?"  I asked Youji.

                Youji shook his head, smirking a little.  "Not a chance."

                "That's what I thought.  Any ideas how to shake this guy?"

                "Split up – there's only one of him.  Meet you back at the _Koneko in a bit."_

                "_Ja."_

                We turned opposite directions, Omi still on my back, and ran off, much to the dismay of the police officer, who ran after Youji for a few moments, shouting, "_Yamero!  Yamero!" before he decided that the long-legged assassin was too fast for him.  He turned towards me._

                I observed all this from over my shoulder as I forced my aching ankle to support both Omi and myself at a jog into the nearest alleyway.  Tokyo is like one giant maze; if I found enough small alleyways to turn into, I could lose the policeman pretty easily.  Unfortunately, a chain-link fence blocked off this particular alleyway.  The fence wasn't particularly high – no more than six feet – but I couldn't scale it with Omi riding on my back.

                The policeman was still pursuing me.  He turned into the alley after me and slowed to a walk.  "Stay right there," he ordered sternly, wielding a nightstick threateningly.

                I looked at him for a moment, then back at the fence, my heart leaping into my throat.  I couldn't get caught, not right then, not with so much at stake and no hope of escaping sentence.  But if I could just find the strength that I had used when I pushed the werewolf off of me, then I could _jump the fence._

                "Put the boy down," ordered the officer.  "Right now.  Put your hands in the air."

                My heart pounded against my chest and I swallowed hard, forcing myself to believe that I could jump that six-foot-high fence.  I looked up and coiled to jump.

                "Sir, right now –"

                The power coursed through my legs and I leapt skyward, sailing over the fence with two feet to spare.  _And this with a dead weight on my back! I thought in amazement.  However, I landed hard, punishing my already injured ankle and badly twisting it under my weight.  I barely saved myself from a fall and quickly limped out of the alleyway, trying to run.  I only caught the barest of glimpses of the police officer when I turned out of the alley; his eyes were wide and his mouth hung open._

                _Serves you right, I thought nastily._

*   *   *

                Two blocks of limp-running later, I was relatively sure I had completely lost the policeman.  Gently I lowered Omi to the pavement in one cool, dark alley and leaned him against the wall, and then I slid down to join him.  I poked my hurting ankle and received a burst of pain for my probe, so I proceeded to try and take my boot off.  After a few tugs, though, it occurred to me that my ankle was probably swollen so even if I did get the boot off, I wouldn't get it back on.  Wearily I realized it would have to wait until I got back to the shop.  I swayed to my feet and bent over to lift Omi again.

                _Death!_

                The hair on the back of my neck stood up when I sensed the non-humans and I began to turn towards the source of the feeling when something or someone pile-drove into my side and wrapped its limbs around my waist and arms, tackling me to the ground.  My right shoulder took the brunt of the fall and I miraculously avoided cracking my head on the pavement for the second time that day.  I grunted with the fall and struggled to look over my shoulder and see what held me.

                It was the first werewolf we had met – the one with blond, silky hair and blue eyes who looked like a muscle-builder.  He rose to his feet without releasing me from the bear hug, never even looking up at me.  "I got him, Miss Stacey," he said.

                _Stacey!?  I looked around wildly for the familiar vampire and saw her in the darkest corner of the alleyway.  Her features were hard to make out in the lighting, but her eyes were as fierce and as frightening a gleam as ever.  I looked away quickly._

                "Good …" her voice was not the gentle, sexy thing I remembered.  It rasped horribly.  "Bring him out of the light."

                "What of the little one?"

                "I'll decide what to do with him later."

                I shuddered and tried to wrench my arms free of the horrendous grip.  My feet were a good foot off the ground, though, and I mostly just dangled helplessly as the werewolf easily carried me to Stacey, where he unceremoniously dropped me.  I scrambled to get away, crawling when my ankle gave out on me, but the werewolf yanked me back and forced me to my knees, holding my arms behind my back and, much to my surprise, snapping them into handcuffs.  He then moved his grip to my arms just below my shoulders, holding me just tightly enough to remind me that escape was unlikely.

                Stacey drew herself in front of me.  My eyes adjusted to the dimness and I finally saw Stacey fully.  Her features were blackened, charred; she looked starved, with sunken cheeks and a bony neck.  Her brown hair was crispy, for lack of a better way to put it; the curls were fragile and sparse.  I realized that she looked a lot like the victims of the vampire attacks that had begun this whole circus, and I sickened and looked away.

                "Look at me!" she rasped, grabbing my head in her hands and forcing me to gaze at her face.  "See what you and your friends did to me!  I should have died!"

                I swallowed hard and managed, "Yeah, you should have."  If she was trying to stir up sympathy in me, she was failing.  I couldn't reconcile this ugly, desperate creature with the composed and sexy vampire of a few days ago.  All I felt was disgust and fear.

                She slapped me across the face, and I let my head turn with the blow.  I tasted blood; obviously her supernatural strength hadn't been taken along with her beauty.  "Shut up!"  She stood still for a moment, breathing hard, then tried to compose herself.  She smiled cruelly making her blackened lips crack.  "That – that _psi-vampire who saved you – he dared to take my blood!  Dared to drink of my preternatural strength!  Well, we'll see how he feels when I leave __you a half-dead, shrunken creature – how __you feel after I inflict pain after pain on you as he did on me -!"_

                I stopped listening as she continued to ramble about punishment and death like a madwoman, dropping my gaze from her parched mouth.  My mind whirled.  _Psi-vampire?  Who … there's no way.  Is she talking about Aya!?_

                Again Stacey's charred hand came across my face.  "Listen to me!" she snarled.  "Pierre, teach him a lesson in respect."

                I felt the werewolf's head move next to my own before his grip on my arms suddenly became crushing.  I stifled a cry and he twisted me around in his grip, shoving me on my back against the ground and crushing my hands beneath me.  He pressed a hand against my throat; he kneeled next to me and stamped one foot down on my bad ankle.  Tears sprang to my eyes and I drew my breath sharply, steeling myself to the pain.  He then began to repeatedly punch me in the stomach.

                The breath whooshed out of me on the very first blow, and the rest were an explosion of pain followed by a short interval of effort to not scream, not cry, and take a breath.  As it turned out, I couldn't stop the tears, which leaked from my squeezed-shut eyes and rolled down my temples to my hairline.  On the other hand, I never had enough breath to properly scream.  Something welled up in my throat after a short while; I finally choked on it and coughed hard, spitting it out, letting it trickle from the corners of my mouth.  It tasted metallic and salty; blood.

                "Stop, Pierre.  Humans can die from internal injuries, you know that," Stacey said.  Her voice was far away compared to the roaring in my ears.

                "As you wish."  The punches stopped and he let go of me completely.  I promptly rolled onto my side and curled into a ball, coughing up blood and wheezing as I tried to catch my breath.

                It took me a moment to notice when the heavy gun in my inner pocket slid out and clattered to the pavement.

                "What's that?" Stacey's voice.  "Pick it up, Pierre."

                I heard the werewolf come to my side, and I cracked my eyes open to see his big hand close on my .44.  I choked down a sob as my one and only comfort fell into the hands of my enemy.

                I assumed that Pierre had handed the gun to Stacey because she made appraising sounds.  I heard the safety click off. "So, boy, you were thinking you'd shoot us with this?"

                I gave no reply as another round of coughing gripped me.  The blood pool under my mouth was probably getting sizable.

                "Pierre!"

                The werewolf's hands clamped down on my shoulders and yanked me to my feet.  My ankle screamed for mercy; I tried to put my weight on the other foot.

                Stacey pointed the barrel of the gun at my head.  My vision was still a little fuzzy, but I could see that she was murderous.  "Answer me – you were going to shoot Pierre and me with this, weren't you?"

                I was pretty pain-addled.  I answered plainly and hoarsely, "Well, not you specifically … but since I ran into you, yeah, sure."  I began to cough up blood again.

                Her burned features twisted in rage.  "We'll see who shoots who—"

                Her fingers moved on the trigger.

                There was a popping noise like a car backfiring, and my left shoulder blossomed into pain and agony.  I'm sure I screamed, but I don't really remember anything except clouding pain that sent me to my knees crying.  My shoulder got wet; _blood something said, but I didn't really notice._

                Pierre was supporting me.  My head lolled; it took too much effort to hold it up properly.  My shoulder hurt like a – hell, I didn't have any clue what it hurt like.  I'd never been shot before.  I barely heard Stacey saying, "All right, hold him steady; I'm going to drain him now.  Make sure I don't kill him."

                Teeth punctured my neck, and I knew no more.

*   *   *

Author's Notes:  Another 'new & improved' chapter!  ^^x  Huge thanks go out to Stephanie and Evan, who both pointed out that if Ken got bitten by a werewolf, he should be a werewolf, too.  ^^x;;;  If you want to know whether or not Ken is a werewolf, be sure you reread carefully!  Also thanks to Evan for pointing out that a 'clip' is not the same as a 'shot'.

Vikki: ::blushing still:: He didn't have to point it out so rudely!  He keeps laughing at me when he tells me these things.

Ken: O.o  I don't think he means any harm.

Vikki: ::glare:: I don't care.  Gonna go beat him up again.

Ken: ~_~ Am I the only one who sees Ranma/Akane parallels here?

Uh … yeah, keep reviewing, please!  ^^x  It gives me motivation.  ^^x

~~Vikki


	7. Part Seven

__

Dream of Crimson – Part VII

By Vikki

Disclaimer: This does not belong to me. Oh ye of the scary teeth, please do not sue this poor American!

Flame Policy: I'll send you to an alternate universe – where anime doesn't exist! Bwahahaa!

* * *

I awoke to the sound of someone screaming in agony. My own body was wracked with pain, and for one very short, horrible instant, I thought the high-pitched cry was my own before I realized it was Stacey's voice.

I was lying on my good shoulder, slumped against the ground; vaguely I was aware of warm liquid soaking my shirt. I tried to remember what had happened in my last few moments of consciousness. _I was shot … blood. Stacey was drinking my blood!_ I shuddered and my torso blotted thought for a moment with its protest. I stifled a moan and tried to lie motionless despite my quickening breath and slight trembling. It took most of my strength to suppress a rising desire to cough.

The screaming had not stopped; rather, it was a continuous, unbroken wail, as if Stacey didn't even have to breathe. Now frightened, I cracked my eyes open and tried to see what was going on.

Stacey was laying in a supine position only a meter or two away, back arched and eyes wide, her entire body rigid. Her mouth was open wide in continuous cries. Pierre was hovering, blue eyes haunted and angry at the same time. "Stacey, calm down! Answer me!"

But the vampire did not calm down. In fact, she began to convulse, twisting onto her side and writhing. She looked right at me and I stiffened instinctively, but her eyes were blank and unseeing. Her screams ebbed, but the convulsing worsened until it was all that the werewolf could do to hold Stacey down.

This continued for a short while until the convulsing slowed and Stacey started to sob great tears of blood, coughing. Pierre knelt next to her and asked quietly, "Stacey?"

It was clear that Stacey was coming back to her senses - her eyes slowly focused, right on me. I shut my eyes again and tried not to breathe. "Hunter blood," she said slowly. "I … I am poisoned."

Startled by this information, my eyes flew open again. Stacey was still looking at me, hatred brimming in her gaze. "I should … have known. Or noticed. No matter." She drew a harsh breath and coughed. Black blood trickled from her parched mouth.

"Stacey?" the werewolf asked again.

"Pierre. A dying wish. Listen well, Hunter … I know you can hear me," she said brokenly. She closed her eyes. "Kill Bel'uah. Kill her! Were it not for her I -" her words were swallowed by coughing, and Pierre's hands went to her back. After a short time, she swallowed hard and relaxed again. "As for the Hunter …" She raised slit-open eyes to me. "Make what is left of his life hell on earth." The smile she gave me was full of malice before she drew a long and deep breath. As she let it out, she breathed, "Finally … to the resting place denied …"

It was her last breath.

I lay still for an instant. The entire world seemed to lie still, as if Stacey's miserable life deserved a moment of reverence. But the bubble popped only seconds later and despite how much I hurt I began to try and raise myself on one elbow. The werewolf didn't even seem to notice, passing his fingers over her eyes and then lifting her body from the alleyway ground. However, he turned a cold glare on me when I grunted with effort and pain, then kicked me hard in the side. My insides seemed to have turned to liquid; my vision went blank and there was a great rushing in my ears for a long moment. When I came back to myself gasping on the pavement, the werewolf was saying, "Don't move from that spot. You'll regret it." He then proved that he retained preternatural strength by casually jumping onto the roof of a one-story building next to the alleyway and trotting off over the roof.

For a little while I obeyed the werewolf, although not out of fear but out of sheer agony. Movement was near impossible it seemed. Omi was still blank-eyed and propped against the wall; I couldn't very well leave without him. And my gun was laying around here somewhere. It was useless to me until I got the handcuffs off, which wasn't likely unless I got the key from the werewolf (that was an exciting prospect) or successfully picked the lock -

_That's it!_ Omi carried around lock picks, especially for missions. I looked to his still form. "Omi!" I hissed. There was no response. I closed my eyes and rolled off of my shoulder and onto my elbow. "Omi!" I tried again. Nothing. Gritting my teeth and muttering under my breath various curse words to vent the pain, I lay mostly on my back, propped on my elbow, and placed my feet flat on the ground, heels against my butt. Then I threw my weight towards my feet, doing a curl-up of pure agony and rolling to my knees. I froze that way for countless moments, my spine like a lance of fire leading into a lake of fire in my gut. And my shoulder continued to throb in rhythm with my heartbeat.

Shakily I got to my feet and shuffled/limped over to Omi, where I squatted, looking into his blank eyes. I nudged him with my knee. "Omi? Com'n, Omi, I know you're in there."

Omi was silent.

I sighed, faced with another dilemma. How was I going to find Omi's lock picks? I had no way of reaching them. A wave of despair crashed over me. I was unguarded - in pain, but able to carry on if I had to - and yet I was stuck here as surely as if Pierre had tied me to the lamppost at the corner. There wasn't going to be any great escape; no one knew were we were, I couldn't reach Omi's lock picks, Omi was out cold for all practical purposes, my gun was somewhere in the alley and completely useless, and in a matter of minutes the werewolf would be back to 'make my life hell' and then he'd probably kill Omi for the sheer fun of it. I had the sudden and irrational desire to laugh, which I suppressed partially because I knew laughing would hurt, but mostly because I was pretty sure I'd never stop. Nonetheless, I couldn't stop a small, hysterical giggle from getting past my lips. "We're gonna die …"

"Geez, don't say things like that."

I snapped my head up and immediately regretted it as the blood rushed to my head. My vision blurred, cleared, and focused, and I identified the speaker as none other than Youji Kudou, standing on the street in his assassin gear. "Y-Youji," I gasped. "You want to give me a heart attack?"

"An athlete like you? Not likely," Youji snorted. He strode into the alleyway easily, his long mission coat flapping around his legs and my Beretta shotgun in his hands. He surveyed me with a deepening frown. "Great gods above, Ken, what possesses you to get yourself beaten into a pulp at every opportunity?"

"Ask the vampires," I shot back. "And take a look in the mirror sometime, Kudou. Your neck is no piece of work either."

"Easy, Hidaka, easy," Youji cautioned with a straight face, holding his hands in front of himself in a placating fashion. The effect was somewhat spoiled by the shotgun in his hand, and his frown hadn't left his face. "I thought something had gone wrong. Drove out looking for you, got the Beretta just in case. Give me the fifteen-second fill-in?" It was a term Omi had coined for quickly needed information without explanation.

"Sure," I said dismissively. "Can't find my gun, Omi's still out cold for some reason, my hands are handcuffed behind my back if you care to do something about that, and a werewolf is coming back here for the express purpose of making my life hell on earth. Pick a starting point and we'll go from there," I suggested.

"You left out 'I'm bleeding to death where I stand'," Youji said without mirth. "Damn, Ken! Just … just _damn_!" He looked sick for a moment, then ran his long fingers through his hair. "Uh, let's start with the gun, which is right there." He walked past me to the glint of silver less than half a meter from where Stacey had died and shoved the gun into his coat pocket before turning to Omi and hoisting him in his arms. "And I'll take Omi. Get in the car."

Every step was agony, but I obeyed, and soon Youji was gunning the engine and roaring back to the _Koneko_ – or so I thought at first. I was beginning to fade in and out of consciousness, but I was able to make out that we weren't going the right way. "Y-Youji …? Where …?" I managed.

"The hospital, Kenken, the hospital! You've been shot for crying out loud!" Youji sounded both irritated and worried at once.

"Oh," I said before letting myself collapse into darkness.

It was a measure of my injury that I didn't protest being called 'Kenken'.

* * *

It was an exciting couple of days that followed, or so I've been told – I wasn't awake for most of it. I nearly died on the operating table because I'd lost a lot of blood from my gun wound and from internal injuries. The doctors had a lot of fun trying to put my shattered shoulder back together, and my right kidney and a small part of my liver had to be removed – Pierre had smashed them to a pulp. I got asked the day after my surgery if I had been rammed with a pile driver! I couldn't very well tell the doctors that I'd nearly been killed by a werewolf, so I said 'sort of' and left it at that. My recovery in the hospital alone would be a week, and then I was supposed to 'take it easy'; my arm would be in a cast and then in a sling – all this with Miki and Pierre out on the loose. If trouble kept finding me the way it had, then I doubted I would have more than the first week to recover.

Then there were the hard questions, and the legal matters. For instance – why was my gun loaded with silver bullets? How had I gotten the puncture wounds on my neck? Why was I handcuffed when I was brought to the hospital? I couldn't reasonably explain it, but apparently Youji and Aya concocted a story in tandem that satisfied the doctors' questions. Less easy to solve were the legal questions, which were rather unique to me. Omi was on the official records of Tokyo as a student. Aya's legal status was a mystery to Youji and me, but Omi seemed to know a bit more and said only that Aya was his 'nickname', but he had a legal name as well. Youji also had maintained his identity in his switch from detective to assassin. On the other hand, I was legally dead – reduced to ashes in a burning warehouse. Therefore, I simply had no insurance. The hospital staff as a collective nearly had a severe headache over me, but Manx stepped in at the last minute and pulled some strings that settled the problem. (I don't really want to know how she did it – Manx can be scary when she wants to be!)

Like I said, I don't remember much of what happened because I spent most of it sleeping, but I do remember what happened during my surgery – and it wasn't pretty. Actually, it began the most fucked-up part of my saga as a Vampire Hunter.

I nearly died on the operating table, as I mentioned before, and maybe that's why this happened. One moment I was asleep and alone in the blackness of unconsciousness, but the next I was floating over the table, looking down at my body. I remember it very clearly – my stomach had been sliced open, and I could see the doctors probing my insides and cleaning unidentifiable things out of my torso until my heart monitor began to beep at them. Then there was mass panic; the doctors began to perform CPR and shout at each other. All this was kind of detached from me as if I was watching the death of someone I'd never really known or cared about, and all I could feel was a vague sadness.

While the doctors continued to fret over me, though, I was pulled away. I was just … pulled. I floated over Tokyo without changing altitude, and I remember wondering a little why I wasn't plummeting to hell before I floated through a wall and into a certain office – a certain, familiar office. Bethany's office.

Bethany was looking up at me from her desk, eyes cool and disinterested. "So you died?" she asked.

"Well … I'm not sure yet," I said, floating in midair over her desk, not knowing how or caring to stand on the ground as if I was in my body. I was divorced from my feelings.

"You're not sure? You're here, aren't you?" Bethany said with accusation and amusement in her voice.

"I'm here and there," I said.

She scowled darkly. "You must choose your body or here!"

"You called me," I said dully.

Bethany rubbed her temples, closing her eyes. "Still in surgery," she mumbled. She looked back up at me. "I have uses for you yet. Go."

And that quickly, I was again propelled to the hospital, only much faster, and the last thing I saw before I slammed back into my own body was the doctors about to declare the time of death.

Let me tell you – it was scary.

And I never told anyone.

Besides having terrifying out-of-body experiences, I had dreams – loads of them – involving Aya with fangs dancing on puppet strings, Bethany leering at me with slit pupils, Youji staring at me blank-eyed and vacant, Omi laughing hysterically and never stopping, and vampires – always vampires. I mean, these were the sort of dreams where you should have jerked out of bed screaming, except the sedatives kept me firmly asleep, trapped in my own mind until the end – and the end was often death. Death was the real running theme; the number of times either I or someone I knew died became to numerous to count.

Thus the first time I woke up for real, Aya was (unfortunately) the one waiting next to my bed. Actually, the reason I woke up in the first place was because I was having another nightmare involving vampires, and when I realized that I really _could_ sense a nonhuman in the vicinity, my eyes snapped open and I panicked only to realize it was Aya I was feeling.

Aya was reading a magazine. When I woke up with a gasp, grasping the sides of my bed and panting, he looked down his nose at me and flipped the page. "You're awake. Good."

When I'd caught my breath and gotten my bearings I glared at him. "Good?_ Good?_ That's all you can say?" I demanded. "What happened? Is everyone okay? Where am I?"

Aya ignored me. "You're in the hospital recovery room. Youji and Omi went out to get McDonald's*. They'll be back soon." He flipped the page again.

And that was that.

For a long moment I just lay there, confused, frustrated, and angry, before I blew out a breath and relaxed. _Let it go,_ I thought. _He's not going to understand you – he's not really human, after all –_

And then memory hit me like a ton of bricks. _Psi-vampire!_

I sat up in bed and experienced a severe blood rush as I turned shocked eyes on Aya. Was it true? Was Aya some sort of variant on the vampires I had killed? I tried to concentrate on the sensation that he triggered in me, but when I thought about the feeling it slipped out of my grasp like water.

Meanwhile, Aya looked up at me and fixed me with an icy stare. "What?"

I swallowed. "I … nothing," I wimped out, lying back down.

Just then, Youji and Omi burst in the door – 'burst' was the only word for it; the door nearly rebounded off the wall. "Ken-kun!" Omi cried joyfully, flying across the small white room and hugging me. I blinked and watched Youji from over Omi's shoulder; the playboy was carrying a McDonald's bag and he winked at me with well-hidden relief. I smiled a little.

"Well, Kenken, we got you some fries, just in case. The doctors said you'd probably wake up today, and hospital food is horrendous, take my word for it," Youji announced. "I'm sure Mr. Talkative here kept you busy?" He clapped Aya on the shoulder, and earned a fierce and deadly glare. Youji just laughed. "Aya, that glare's losing effect! I've stared down death in a vampire's eyes now," he pointed out.

Omi finally let me go and pulled up another chair. "Yeah, and got hypnotized doing it," he retorted. "Lay down, Ken-kun, you're still recovering."

I ignored his warning, sitting up and surveying the damage. If I should have been in pain, I wasn't; judging from the fuzzy feeling I had, I was on a myriad of painkillers. My left shoulder was in a cast, holding my arm out at an awkward angle. Something in my stomach pulled, and I surreptitiously checked my torso to see a long line of stitches to the right of navel from my hip to my ribcage. I winced instinctively and remembered watching the doctors put their hands in that hole when I 'died'.

"They had to remove your kidney," Omi said. "And part of your liver, too." I jerked up my head to look at him. "Sorry, Ken-kun – something smashed your insides! You have a lot internal stitches too, so you have to promise to be extra careful or you'll start to bleed internally again."

I looked back down at the stitches on my stomach. _How did I get my body so fucked up so fast?_ I didn't say. Pierre was a real piece of work. "Uh, well, since Aya won't tell me anything, do me a favor and tell me instead," I asked. So Omi began to fill me in while Youji handed me fries, and Aya kept reading his magazine as if no one else was in the room. Then a nurse came in and chased everyone out so I could sleep.

* * *

"What really happened, Ken?"

I looked up at Youji from the crossword puzzle I'd begun out of sheer boredom. After spending three conscious days in the hospital, I was getting desperate. "What really happened when?" I asked.

Youji was the only other one in the room. Aya had mysteriously disappeared to another part of the hospital and Omi had school. Youji _should_ have been running the shop, but it hadn't ever deterred him from doing as he pleased before. Privately I was glad of his company. "You know what I'm talking about. When Stacey attacked you in that alley. There's more to it than you've told anyone."

I fiddled with the pencil in my hand and adjusted my seat so the edge of my cast didn't dig into my back. "Er …"

I had told everyone what had happened, but I had refrained from mentioning Stacey's comments about psi-vampires. I only suspected Aya, anyway, although I couldn't imagine who else Stacey could have been referring to. I didn't even know what a psi-vampire _was_, but I was really bothered by it. Every time Aya came up in conversation, I found myself wondering _Is he?_ again.

"Com'n, you can tell me," Youji coaxed.

"… Trust me, Youji, this time you don't want to know," I told him.

"What? Did she rape you?" Youji asked innocently.

"_What?_ No!" I glared at the playboy. "She just got under my skin a little, that's all."

"Liar," Youji said quietly, and I flinched. "Ken, nothing and nobody gets under your skin – except maybe me, of course." He flashed a smile, but it faded quickly. "You're the most resilient person I know, except maybe Aya, and you're a really bad liar, too."

Caught between annoyance and embarrassment, I grunted. "Shut up, Kudou."

"Come off it, Ken! You're bad at this 'secrets' thing."

"Shut up, Kudou," I repeated, turning my attention to the crossword puzzle again.

"Ken." Youji's voice lost all wheedling tones, catching my attention. I looked up at him to see a perfectly straight, serious face. "If you don't tell me, I'll tell Omi you're keeping secrets. And then I'll let him try to get it out of you."

If my left arm hadn't been done up a cast, I would have crossed my arms and glared at Youji. As it was, I had to settle for just glaring. "You play dirty!" I accused.

Youji smirked at me. We both knew that Omi was the most persistent person on the planet when he wanted to know something; it was part of the reason he was our team researcher (although his hacking skills were pretty important, too). I wouldn't have a moment's rest until I had confessed. "Well?"

I sighed, giving up in part. If I phrased it right, I would only have to confess part of my worries. "All right. Stacey said something about 'psi-vampires'. What the hell is a psi-vampire?"

"That's all?" Youji asked incredulously.

"Hey! There's enough blood-sucking vampires out there, I didn't want to know there were other kinds, too!" I protested. "Now I don't even know what I'm supposed to be looking for. Geez, my life was too complicated when it was just Weiss. Now it's Weiss, werewolves, witches, blood-sucking vampires, and psi-vampires!"

"Ahem."

I froze at the quiet voice and slowly twisted around in bed to see Aya framed in the doorway. He was impassive as usual, but he was pushing a wheelchair. A nurse stood behind him, poking her head in the door with a cheery smile. "Perhaps you'd like to see other parts of the hospital today, Hidaka-san! Surely you're tired of this room," she offered pleasantly.

It didn't take any effort to smile at the prospect. "_Arigatou gozaimasu, ojou-san_," I exclaimed.

"_Dou itashimasshite, Hidaka-san_," she returned with a bow.

* * *

Earlier I said that I suspected I'd only have a week to recover before my crazy life began to act up again.

I was wrong.

I had less.

The nurse was pretty annoyed when she got a call at ten o'clock at night on my fourth day of recovery. Obviously wanting to go home, she came into my room and handed me the phone, saying, "You can only talk for five minutes, Hidaka-san, you need your rest," before stalking out.

I shrugged with my good arm and put the phone to my ear. "_Moshi-moshi,_" I said.

"Hidaka-san," said a familiar and chilling voice.

I pursed my lips. "Yumi-san," I returned sourly. "You have three seconds to explain yourself before I hang up on you."

"Then let me talk fast," she said. I blinked, surprised that she had no objections or sultry comments to throw at me. "I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot. You have every right to choose your own path – I was just upset at the moment, and a bit shaken that you realized the source of power for our room."

For a long moment there was silence; I held the phone to my ear and tried to comprehend the idea that Yumi was apologizing to me. "Uh, okay …" I said brilliantly.

Yumi plowed on. "I'm glad you understand. The source of power _is_ a sacrifice, but a willing one – please try to understand, Hidaka-san. The most powerful witch in the coven gave herself up ten years ago to create that room. It took every ounce of tortured blood in her body to support our magic."

I suddenly realized that Yumi sounded as if she was on the verge of tears. Things were happening too fast; I didn't know whether to trust her or to hang up. The idea that the focus had been christened by a death was gruesome, but it _had_ been a willing sacrifice … "Wait a minute. You're not just calling to apologize. What do you want?" I demanded.

There was another moment of silence; then Yumi, her voice cracking, said very quietly, "Help, Hidaka-san. Our coven is being killed, one by one. There are only four of us left – and I suspect that once we are all dead, you and the rest of Weiss may be next."

* * *

*Of _course_ there are McDonald's' in Japan. ^^x Seriously, there are. I don't know what they serve, but I'm pretty sure fries are a universal staple, so I'm playing it safe.

Author's Notes: Yeah, yeah, corny ending. Sorry. @_@x Overall this chapter is boring if you ask me. About Aya 'taking off to another part of the hospital' – I need to make a point. I failed to give a warning about spoilers in Part Five, I think, when Yumi reminds Ken of his own sordid past involving shotguns in people's mouths. ~_~x This is a reference to the OAV. And now you're going, 'Hey! Aren't the OAVs after the series?' Actually, that's debatable. My friend noted that at the end of the OAVs they say that the story continues in Episode 1 of WK. Also, they live out of a trailer in the OAV, so I suspect that they haven't gotten the flower shop yet. Thus, I assume that the OAV takes place before the series began – so Aya-chan is still in the hospital at this point, explaining why Aya disappears to other parts of the hospital in this chapter.

Thanks to whomever said that Hunter blood is poisonous to vampires. It confirmed what I thought was true, and was very helpful.

APs are approaching at the speed of light, so I probably won't update for three weeks. Luckily this cliffhanger ain't so bad, ne?

Legolas: It 'ain't' so good, either, Vikki.

Vikki: Okay, okay! I _admit_ it, it's corny! Sheesh. ~_~x

One last note: NO, NO PAIRINGS. I don't want them in there. Period. Like I said, YouKen is the closest to being suggested, and that's accidental. Sorry – romance just wasn't the goal.

It's a short chapter. Not much going on, obviously. Next time there will be more action and probably a lot more explanations. We approach the climax rapidly now, believe it or not! Thank you oh so much for reading – please keep reviewing! ^^x

~~Vikki


	8. Part Eight

Last time:

… "Wait a minute.  You're not just calling to apologize.  What do you want?" I demanded.

There was another moment of silence; then Yumi, her voice cracking, said very quietly, "Help, Hidaka-san.  Our coven is being killed, one by one.  There are only four of us left – and I suspect that once we are all dead, you and the rest of Weiss may be next."

*   *   *

_Dream of Crimson – _Part VIII

By Vikki

Disclaimer:  Not mine.  Have no money.   Please don't sue.

Flame Policy:  Honestly … can't we all just get along?  ^^x;;;

*   *   *

Pause.

I sat still for a moment as I fought an inner battle between reason, compassion, and paranoia.  Compassion coupled with paranoia won out.  "Who is killing you?" I asked solemnly.

"I don't even know!  This is perhaps more distressing than anything else," Yumi exclaimed, hysterical for an instant, then immediately calming down.  "I … I have suspicions, but they are no more than a hunch, and –" she cut off.  "I cannot discuss that over the phone either.  It is too great of a risk."

I wanted to rub my temples, but my good hand was occupied holding the phone.  "Well, I can't come to you, Yumi-san.  I'm in the hospital, as you obviously know."

"Then I will come to you," she said simply.  "Is tomorrow at noon a good time?"

I couldn't help it; I had to ask.  "Okay – _why_ do you think I can help you _this _time?"

Yumi laughed a ghost of that dangerous laugh she had.  "Ken Hidaka, you have done the impossible – you have come up against five vampires in as many days and defeated them all."

"By pure luck," I retorted.

"You do not give yourself enough credit.  But it is enough regardless.  I think that – no, I _know_ that you can help us."

"You –" I began, half embarrassed and pleased and half annoyed, before the nurse came in again.  "Hidaka-san, you need your sleep," she reminded me sharply.  I groaned, but before I could say anything to Yumi, I heard her chuckle again.

"I can hear that it's your bedtime, Hidaka-san," she said in a wispy, tired voice.  "I will see you tomorrow, then?"

"This doesn't mean I trust you," I said sharply.

"Of course not," Yumi answered.  "_Oyasumi nasai_." _Click._

*   *   *

                Youji was again the one in my room with me when Yumi showed up.  I had warned the playboy ahead of time of the witch's arrival, but that didn't stop him from watching her warily as a nurse escorted her in.

                Yumi looked exhausted.  There were dark circles under her eyes and her face was pale despite her dark tan.  Her clothes were casual, though – she wore jeans and a dark red sweater – which made me feel relieved.  I had half-expected her to come dressed like a slut.  She carried a small black case with her.  "_Konnichiwa_," I greeted her.  "Meet Youji Kudou.  Youji, meet Yumi Ryuuki.  Uh, sit down, get comfortable."

                Yumi looked around her as if in confusion before her eyes came to rest on Youji.  She blinked several times, her eyebrows knitting slightly, before she said, "I must ask you to leave, Kudou-san.  I will be warding this room, and it would be easier if you were not here."

                Youji crossed his arms and looked at me, quirking an eyebrow as if to ask, _do you really think you can trust her?  _I was torn with indecision for a moment, and it must have shown because Youji stood up, proving that he towered over Yumi.  His features darkened as he turned a fierce glare on her.  "If Ken has one scratch on him, I will kill you with no regrets."  He grinned dangerously.  "So don't try anything."

                Yumi's sigh was heavy and laden with cares, and she rubbed her temples.  "Kudou-san, if I wanted to hurt Hidaka-san, do you really think I'd do it in here, right now, with a dozen witnesses to my presence in this room?  Rest at ease, then; the only blood that will spill here will be my own."

                Youji grunted, throwing a glance at me again.  I nodded in answer to the silent question, and he slipped out the door, sliding around Yumi with his natural fluid grace.  I shut my eyes and laid back on the pillows, listening to Yumi put down and open her case.  "You came, then," I said slowly.

                "Did you really expect any different?" Yumi sounded slightly amused.

                "I didn't know what to expect.  I never know what to expect from you," I answered, cracking my eyes open.

                Yumi was baring her forearm and holding a small knife.  Holding her wrist over a paper cup, she made a small cut with a grimace of pain and let the blood drip.  "I'll take that as a compliment, Hidaka-san," she said.

                There was a moment of silence as Yumi finished bleeding herself and sealed the cut with a word and a tap of her bloody fingers against her broken skin.  _Why didn't Aya do that for me?_ I wondered while Yumi closed the shades in the room and began to dribble the blood at the four corners of the room.  "Uh, what are you doing?"

                "Warding this room.  I'm calling upon _vrondi_ – supernatural creatures insubstantial like air – to surround this room and turn away unwanted ears."

                "That requires blood?"

                "It is a summons, merely another aspect of blood magic," Yumi shrugged slightly as she said it, turning back to me and seating herself in the chair next to my bed.

                "It's a wonder you don't all bleed to death," I observed under my breath just loud enough for the witch to hear.  She chuckled throatily.

                "I suppose it is.  Now, if you please, I need silence."  She sat upright, closing her eyes, and crossing her fingers in a strange and intricate pattern.  She began to mutter to herself.

                The room stirred.  At first it wasn't visible, but I could feel … _somethings_ … brushing by me.  They were not hostile, but curious.  _Who? Who?_ They asked silently.  I shivered and rubbed at my ears – they almost tickled.  Then something – Yumi, I guess – guided them away.  Then their presence was a bit more visible, because the blood in the four corners of the room evaporated before my eyes, and a short gentle breeze ruffled my bed sheets and Yumi's hair.  And all was quiet.

                Yumi opened her eyes and smiled a surprisingly gentle smile.  "Did you like the _vrondi_?  They did like you," she said with a short laugh.

                "I – I guess," I said in embarrassment, rubbing my ear still.  I had encountered those once before … at Youji's room, when he was recovering from the first vampire attack.  Aya could summon _vrondi_ as well – he was the only one who could have put any ward on the playboy's room.

                The witch laughed again and leaned back in her chair, studying me for a while.  I put up with it for a little bit, but eventually I fell to glaring at her.  "What?"

                "I was just thinking."  She paused.  "What do you think of Kudou-san's abilities?"

She sounded as if she was just trying to make conversation, but her eyes were too shrewd for that.  Regardless, I couldn't hide my surprise; I never was a good actor.  I blinked at her.  "Youji?  Abilities?"

Yumi frowned slightly.  "You didn't notice?  Kudou-san has latent psychic skills.  They're very slight, but he seems to able to pick up on the basic gist of the thoughts of those closest to him."

Apparently my sixth sense wasn't that sensitive – which might have explained why it never seemed to warn me of danger until it was too late.  "I didn't know," I said honestly.  "But I don't see why I should trust you about that."

"I told you the truth about being a Slayer, didn't I?" she pointed out seriously, leaning forward again and putting her elbows on her knees.  "Hidaka-san, I _need_ your trust.  As I told you over the phone, there is this … threat.  If we can, we should … I mean, I would prefer … that we work together."

The silence lengthened as I looked at the witch, considering everything.  As far as Youji went, I realized that her explanation made sense – after all, he always seemed to know what I needed almost before I asked.  But trusting Yumi was almost too much to ask.  I hardly knew her.  I knew she had killed at least one person, even if it was a willing victim.  And she had tried to manipulate me before.  On the other hand, she had warned me about this latest threat.  But maybe that was only because she needed my help.  Could I really let her colleagues be struck down mercilessly?  Was it right to let them die because I thought that they killed unjustly?  What right did I have to judge that, when I killed on the average of once a week?

Ultimately, it was a choice between the lesser of two evils, and the witches were simply less evil than anything else I had encountered (except that boy in the weapons shop).  I swallowed and closed my eyes.  "Do I really have a choice?" I asked quietly.

"… Yes," Yumi said after a moment.  I heard her chair shift as she rose to her feet.  "I realized last night that I cannot force you into anything, Hidaka-san, for whether you work with me or not, you are too important to the Underworld to neutralize.  Thank you for your time."  She began to walk to the door.

If those words had been intended to manipulate me, they succeeded phenomenally.  I immediately sat up.  "Hey!  Did I say that I wouldn't work with you?" I demanded.

Yumi turned back to me, eyes wide as if amazed.  If she was acting, she was a damn good actress.  "_Nani?_" she inquired in a near whisper.

I made my decision.  "Sit down," I said sharply, "and tell me about this threat before the rest of your coven gets killed."

For the first time, Yumi gave me a real, genuine smile of relief and gratitude.  "Thank you, Hidaka-san," she said without a trace of ice or sarcasm.

                And for the first time, I thought that maybe I could trust Yumi – just a little.

Once she had sat down and gotten comfortable, Yumi started her tale from the beginning.  Apparently the trouble began the night after I had come to the Hot Cat Club.  (It took me a moment to realize that it had been only nine days since then – it felt like several eternities.)  Every night for eight nights, witches died – one from suicide, another from a brutal werewolf-style mauling, another from an overdose of drugs, another from a vampire's 'kiss' – the list went on and on.  Yumi's coven had tried everything from warding to Shinigami mantra to exorcism circles, but still, witches kept dying.  They were out of options – and what remained of Yumi's defeated coven had finally asked Yumi to come to me because of my success as a Hunter.  (I had to stifle a laugh at the idea.)

                "There are now three of us – Keiichi was mauled last night," Yumi finished quietly.  Her eyes were suspiciously moist, but she had succeeded in holding back her tears thus far.  "It has been – awful.  Beyond words."  She swiped a finger across her cheek, catching a single tear before she looked at me earnestly, squaring her shoulders, turning to business with obvious effort.  "I don't expect you to know what sort of significance this has, Hidaka-san.  Witches are not creatures easily defeated – which brings me to the crux of the issue.  Three members of my coven were killed by a vampire bite.  Rather like you, witches cannot be rolled under, yet none of their bodies showed any signs of resistance or a trauma that could knock them out.  From all appearances, they just … _let_ themselves be sucked dry."  She wrapped her arms around herself and asked abruptly, "Do you think they'd let me smoke in here?"

                I stared at her.  "Um … no," I said finally.

                She grimaced.  "I suppose not," she said slowly.  "Well.  The point is, I highly doubt that Natsu or Rika or Eiji would have simply sat back and let a vampire drink their blood.  Something used powerful magic on them to freeze their bodies, or … I don't even know," she sighed.

                "But you have suspicions," I supplied.

                Yumi sighed, tilting her head.  "Yes."  She gave me a particularly piercing look.  "Are you ready to hear this, Hidaka-san?  This may hit particularly close to home."

                I felt my stomach clench with nervous apprehension.  "Just say it."

                Yumi drew a breath.  "I believe the one killing my coven is Bel'uah."

                The air in my lungs whooshed out.  "Bethany-san is doing this?"  I knew she was dangerous, but … "You just confirmed my worst fears, thanks a lot," I said fiercely, although I wasn't actually angry at her.  So … Bethany wasn't just powerful and nonhuman; she was a murderer.  I wondered at how I could have been so blind to Bethany's intentions!  Maybe I'd been affected by her strange, subtle abilities more than I'd thought.  _And Aya is associated with her!_

                Yumi cleared her throat, grabbing for my attention.  "I know you have spoken with her."

                "As you pointed out the first we talked," I pointed out.

                "Yes.  Well.  I don't know what she told you, but Bethany – Bel'uah – whatever you want to call her – is arguably the most powerful nonhuman in Tokyo.  I couldn't tell you what she is exactly – her nature is beyond determination for one such as I – but she commands a vast arsenal of … 'evil' creatures of the Underworld, if you could truly contrast anything as 'evil' versus 'good'.  Among them are blood vampires, certain werewolves, Reapers, psi-vampires—"

                "_What?_"  I bolted upright, sitting ramrod straight and feeling my stomach stitches tug with the sudden movement.  "Did you say psi-vampires?"

                Yumi blinked at me.  "Yes …" she said, slowly frowning.

                I was almost afraid to ask the next question.  "What …" I swallowed.  "What are the characteristics of psi-vampires, Yumi-san?"

                Yumi tilted her head.  "What does this have to do with—"

                "Humor me," I interrupted.  "It's important to me."

                With a suspicious look, Yumi nodded.  "Very well … 'Psi-vampire' is short for 'psychic vampire'.  They are often dead humans who had an unusually strong connection to the lifestream in their lifetime.  They are rather unlike their blood-sucking cousins.  Rather than thriving on blood, they thrive on the emotions of those around them.  To be around a psi-vampire is often to feel tired and frustrated, as if you have been upset or excited for an overlong period of time.  Skilled psi-vampires can get a rise out of their companions to feed off their emotions without making them feel emotionally drained, however."  She paused, looking at me; I must have looked very distressed because she asked, "_Daijoubu ka, Hidaka-san?_"

                "_Aa, daijoubu_," I managed.  "Please continue … what do they look like?  What are their sleeping habits and eating habits?"

                Yumi looked even more suspicious now, but she continued.  "They are often pale, but for the most part they maintain a human appearance.  If you look very closely, they do have sharp fangs, but they are almost always useless.  Unlike blood vampires, they do not have to sleep during the day; instead, they sleep the sleep of the dead at night.  And they do not eat.  Well, they _can_ eat, but it is not sustenance to them."  She paused.  "Psi-vampires are really very harmless.  They don't kill their victims; other than feeding off emotions, they are practically living beings.  Why should they concern you?"

                It was all I could do to keep asking.  "Y-Yumi-san … can … can psi-vampires perform magic?"

                Yumi nodded.  "Most can."

                I swallowed hard.  "A-and can they … you know … drink blood?"

                Yumi's gaze was sharp.  "A blood fetish, you mean?  Yes, some psi-vampires can drink blood, and some choose to do so.  They gain strength from it.  Those that perform magic can use the blood to enhance their connection to the lifestream as well."

                I sagged in defeat.  _Aya …_

It all fit together.  By being cold and unemotional, Aya often managed to frustrate Omi, Youji, and myself – a way of obtaining the energy he wanted to feed off of.  He was pale; he rarely ate; he could perform magic.  And worst of all, he had a connection to Bethany.

"Hidaka-san, should I call a nurse?" Yumi sounded genuinely concerned.

I blinked out of my reverie feeling exhausted and defeated, and shook my head.  "No … I – it's not important right now.  I just …" I trailed off.  Even though I said that it wasn't important, I had the horrible sinking feeling that it was important – dreadfully important.  I closed my eyes.

Aya.  He was under Bethany's control without question.

Yumi.  She would oppose Bel'uah to the end of her days.

It was time to choose sides.

"Yumi-san."  I stared at the sheets.  "Regardless of what Bel'uah has done to your coven, I'll help you fight her."

Yumi blinked at me in obvious surprise.  "Oh?  Why?"

I raised my eyes to meet her gaze steadily.  "Because … because she made it personal.  On purpose."  I clenched the sheets in my fist.  "I'm going to set things right."  _Aya … we'll free you._

"That sounds like the Ken I know," said a voice from the doorway.  I looked up in surprise to see Youji, but Yumi just glanced at him calmly.

"Youji! How much of this did you hear?" I demanded.

"Not a lot," Youji confessed.  "Came in to warn you that another serving of that delicious gruel the nurses call miso soup is on the way.  Want me to get you something at the _Kuroneko_?"

"Uh, please," I said as Yumi smiled demurely, obviously amused.  I spoke quickly.  "Youji, Yumi-san is providing us with information about our targets.  There's been another rash of attacks.  Yumi knows who is behind them, and she can brief you on it while you go get a decent lunch."  I managed a smile.

I needed them both to leave so I could digest everything I had discovered, but I needed to talk to Yumi later.  I could only hope that Youji would use those supposed psychic powers to understand what I wanted.

Youji frowned at me slightly, then looked at Yumi, and then he looked back at me.  And then he smiled.  "I'd be honored to be briefed by someone as gorgeous as you, Ryuuki-san," he addressed Yumi.  "Please, right this way."

Yumi's smile was a combination of amusement, amazement, and sexual undertones.  She practically swaggered by him, matching his flirting attitude with ease.  "Thank you, Kudou-san.  Please call me Yumi."

Youji followed her out into the hall.  "Certainly, Yumi-san …"

Their voices faded.  I laid back and closed my eyes, content to let my mind wander and sort things out without conscious thought.

That was when I felt the hostile nonhuman force at the door of my room.

I tensed and my eyes snapped open as I twisted in my bed to stare at the doorway.

"I think you have some explaining to do, Hidaka," the figure said.

Aya.

*   *   *

Author's Notes:  Another short part.  I may later combine this part with Part Seven; they flow together pretty well anyway.  I wrote the second half of this section while slowly falling asleep, so if you catch any mistakes or find it horribly, unbearably bad, please let me know.  It'll probably see a major rewrite in the near future, when I'm not dead on my feet.

This chapter is the bomb that rains on everyone's party, I guess. ^^x;;  Eheh heh … so … how 'bout that reverse psychology?  ::sweatdrop:: Don't kill me, please.  I didn't even know I was using reverse psychology until Evan told me I was.  Er, yeah … please, PLEASE tell me what you think of Aya and Youji's respective … skills.

Someone asked about Omi being out of it.  I don't know if I'll get around to explaining in the story, so here goes.  Omi was 'rolled under' without even looking into the vampire's eyes because it was one heck of a strong vampire.  Youji, too, was 'rolled under', but before the takeover was complete, Ken smacked him.  The shock of violent physical contact broke him out of the passive hypnotism.  Omi, on the other hand, was completely overtaken by the time Ken got to him, so presumably Aya had to use another exorcism circle to snap him out of it.  Yeah. 

In other news, there are a few nods in this story to another anime and a fantasy author … I think I'll let you guess what I'm talking about.  ^^x;; Good luck!  Please tell me what you find; I'll tell you what I did next time.

Thanks, as always, to all the awesome reviewers who give me the inspiration to write!  You're all beautiful!

~~Vikki


	9. Part Nine

Last time:

That was when I felt the hostile nonhuman force at the door of my room.

I tensed and my eyes snapped open as I twisted in my bed to stare at the doorway.

"I think you have some explaining to do, Hidaka," the figure said.

Aya.

_Dream of Crimson – Part IX_

By Vikki

Disclaimer: ::puts down sticker reading 'Property of Takehito Koyasu'::

Flame Policy:  I've come to suck your blood ….

*   *   *

                I didn't know how to react.  I stared at Aya as he stepped menacingly into the room.  My sense of alarm increased as he approached and the invisible warning bells of my sixth sense went off.  I sat upright and scooted backwards on the bed until I was against the wall, my cast digging painfully into my back.  My heart thudded wildly.

                Aya's mouth was set in a thin line; his violet eyes flashed.  He stopped at the foot of my bed and glared at me.  His glare could have melted stone.  I swallowed hard and opened my mouth to speak; no sound came out.  I gave it another try.  "A-Aya … w-what d-d-did you n-need e-explained?"

                It wouldn't have been so bad if it weren't for my sixth sense, I thought.  Aya never set off warning bells like this in me before because he never presented himself as a threat.  He was just – well – not human.  But now I knew he was a vampire; now something was fundamentally different about his attitude towards me.  I was worse than scared; I was terrified.

                Aya's hand clamped down on my jaw as he forced me to face him and he leaned down until our faces were inches apart.  "What is that witch doing here?" he snarled, baring his teeth.

                "Y-You mean Yumi?" I gasped stupidly. I fancied that I could see the sharp little vein-piercing canines in his perfect mouth.

                Aya's fingers tightened.  "No matter how you may act, Hidaka, you are not stupid!  Yes, Yumi!"

                Pain lanced my jawbone as I managed, "M-mission business … n-not your problem, you d-didn't take the job …"

                Aya snarled silently and the pressure on my jaw and temples increased.  I winced, gasping for breath.  "When it comes to the supernatural it is always my business," he said quietly.  "Do you want to revise your answer before I break your jaw?"

                _What would I tell him? I wondered as I screwed my eyes shut with the pain.  __Ah, yes, Yumi stopped by to tell me that you're actually a psi-vampire, and did you know, Bethany committed fourteen murders in the last ten days?  Instead I just groaned, putting my good hand over his own and kicking feebly at him.  "I … gods, Aya, I don't know, just let me go, please!" I whined._

                "Liar," Aya breathed.  He squeezed.

                "Aya-kun!"

                That suddenly, Aya dropped me.  I collapsed against the bedclothes, massaging my jaw and grimacing.  "What?" Aya snapped, spinning to face the doorway.

                Omi was there, white as a sheet and clutching his baseball cap in his hands so tightly his knuckles were changing color.  "I … I …" he trailed off uncertainly, staring at Aya with wide eyes.

                _How much did he see? Was of course the standard question; he couldn't have heard a thing, as he was outside the warded room until just now.  I stared at the seventeen-year-old, wordless, until suddenly Aya snorted and stalked out of the room, pushing past Omi rudely._

                Omi looked at me blankly; the color was slowly returning to his face, but he was still obviously very worried.  "Ken-kun …" he said slowly.

                I opened my mouth, but it took me a moment to say anything.  "… Aya just …" _What, am I going to apologize for him? I thought angrily.  __That bastard traitor covering for that creature Bel'uah – probably gathering information for her so she can kill Yumi—_

                And then it hit me.

                Aya was my enemy.

                And as long as he was under Bethany's influence, he would continue to be an enemy.

                I felt hollow.  It was Kase all over again.

                "Ken-kun?"  Omi sounded nearly hysterical – naturally, I thought, as he'd just seen one 'friend' nearly crack another 'friend's' jaw.

                "I … Aya …" I tried again, tongue-tied.  "He's …"

                "Special?"  Youji asked from the doorway.  I looked up, relieved; Omi sighed, placing his hand over his heart.  Youji walked in and sat down.  "Yumi-san said she had some business to attend to, so she left.  What's the matter, Omi, you look like you've seen a ghost!  Sheesh."  Without waiting for an answer, Youji produced a big bag full of takeout sushi.  "Never mind, I've heard enough weird shit to get me through a whole year.  You like salmon, right, Kenken?" he handed me a nine-piece sushi set.

                Omi seemed as glad as me to just brush over the incident for now; I think we both needed the mental rest.  The teenager rolled his eyes.  "Youji-kun, you take everything too lightly!" he accused.

                "Well, you take everything seriously enough for the both of us," Youji pointed out amiably.

                "That's because you're so careless you'll get us all killed!"

                "Ha!  If you die young, Omicchi, it'll be of a heart attack."

                "Youji-kun!"

                I broke my chopsticks and smiled for small blessings.  "_Itadakimasu," I laughed, digging in._

*   *   *

                The next day the stitches in my stomach were removed during the morning, leaving a long pink scar, but when Youji came in the afternoon I wouldn't let him leave the hospital room.  He teased me about it mercilessly, but I was too frightened of Aya to let it get to me.  When I just stared at Youji for a while after one of his worse wisecracks, he sobered and produced a book to read – _Erotica.  I blushed when I saw the cover.  "Youji, you actually went through with it!" I accused._

                "Through with what?" Youji asked innocently.

                "Well – getting _that book!"  I pointed.  "You were going to get it from the Tokyo University Library when-" I cut off ungracefully, thinking that maybe bringing up what had happened that day wasn't the best idea._

                Youji, however, just smirked.  "I _always carry through on my plans," he informed me._

                I rolled my eyes at him and looked for something to do.

                Aya didn't even come by that day.  However, some of the kids I played soccer with showed up around five o'clock in the evening, delivering a huge load of 'get well soon' cards and enough candy to turn even Youji into a bloated blimp.  It was a pleasant hour with them – it reminded me that the world wasn't only populated by freaks and blood-sucking creatures of the night.

                However, I'd have to say the highlight of my day was when the Necromancer came.

                A nurse came by at about 6:30 PM and let him in.  He wore casual clothes that sagged on his frame, reinforcing in my mind the idea that he was no older than Omi, and carried a small paper bag.  "_Kon'ban wa," he greeted both Youji and me.  He hoisted the bag in his hand, facing me.  "I brought the shuriken you ordered, Hidaka-san.  I hope you are feeling better."_

                Either I was getting a little better at 'wielding' my sixth sense or it was getting stronger.  Regardless, it was getting easier and easier to establish the difference between a hostile being, a neutral being, and a friendly being.  The sense I had from the Necromancer was so friendly that it completely erased the wary edge that usually came to me with a non- or super-human.  "I am, thanks.  Sit down.  Oh, uh, this is Youji Kudou, by the way," I introduced my friend, causing Youji to wave with a little smirk, "And Youji, this is – er—"

                "Kenji Yamamoto," the boy smiled.

"Yeah.  He's the one that sold me the silver bullets for your gun, Youji."

Youji raised his eyebrows, nodding once.  "Good to meet you."

"It is my pleasure," Kenji bowed slightly.  He took the seat I indicated.  "Where would you like me to put the shuriken?"

                "Oh, wherever," I waved it off.  "They're for another partner of mine, so I'll give them to him later.  How did you know I was in the hospital?  You'd think somebody broadcast the news across Tokyo with the number of people who know."

                At that Kenji snorted.  "Well, that may be pretty accurate, Hidaka-san."

                I raised my eyebrows.  "Oh?  And where did you hear my name – I don't think I ever told you at the shop."

                "You didn't," the Necromancer hastened to assure me.  "Just let me tell you how I found you – it all ties together, and it also has to do with why I came in person."  He glanced at Youji and then leveled his gaze on me.  "Can he—"

                "Youji can hear anything I hear, Yamamoto-san," I assured him before he could finish

                "Yeah, I keep Kenken here sane and alive," Youji added, making me glare at him before I pondered the truth of that statement.  _He sorta does …_

                "Well, er, go on," I encouraged.

                Kenji nodded, giving Youji a look that suggested incredulity before he looked at me again, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees.  "All right.

                "When you didn't come in to pick up the shuriken order six days ago, I was sort of relieved – the order hadn't come in, and usually things like that are rush jobs.  But when you didn't come the next day, or the next, I got a little worried, so I … I researched you, as it were.  Not on the computer, at least at first – I didn't have your name yet – but, er … it wasn't hard to find you once I started asking around about a Hunter.

                "Well, Hidaka-san, in the last week and a half you've made a big name for yourself in the Underground.  You're the deadliest Hunter in Tokyo and you stood up to a witch coven to boot.  Besides which, rumors are going around that you've seen Bethany several times, yet you're not only alive, but you still have a free will." Kenji frowned at me.  "You told me you were new to all this!"

                "I _am," I protested, awed by the information.  The idea of me being famous was frightening and exhilarating at the same time (if not novel).  "No one told __me that a Hunter's not supposed to kill five vampires in a week, and I did it mostly by accident anyway, with a lot of help!  As to Bethany …" I couldn't suppress a shudder. "I don't know what's with her.  I can tell you that I have no idea why she hasn't killed me – I'm sure she could do it whenever she wanted."_

                "Then you know who she is?"

                "My impression," I grumbled, "is that it's nearly impossible to get involved with the Underground and not know who she is."  Youji didn't look very surprised, though, so I could only assume that Yumi had told him about Bethany.

                Kenji smirked slightly.  "That's true enough."  He sat back.  "Anyway, it took a little digging, but I got wind of your name from one of my contacts, so I took my search to the 'net."  Again he looked at me curiously.  "What I found was interesting.  The name Ken Hidaka isn't on official Tokyo records anywhere – not even on the motorcycle license registry.  You don't exist, legally."

                I shrugged.  "Actually, it would be more accurate to say that I'm dead."  The Necromancer raised his eyebrows at me, and I saw Youji smirk out of the corner of my eye.  "Anyway, so you didn't find me officially.  Where _did you find me?"_

                Kenji half-smiled.  "The coaching roster for the district junior soccer league," he answered, "which made me think that your name was sort of familiar.  You're the goalie that got kicked out of the J-League a couple of years ago, aren't you?  I followed your team for years."

                It was odd; I'd thought I'd put the pain of being kicked out of the League behind me, but something in me cringed at Kenji's words.  "That was a lifetime or two ago," I said quietly.

                Seeming to sense my mood, Kenji moved on hurriedly.  "Today I called the head coach, and he said that you worked at the _Koneko no Sumu Ie.  It took me a while, but I found it.  There were an awful lot of junior high school girls there," he observed astutely._

                I rolled my eyes, and Youji interjected, "They're all looking for me, you know, but I don't date anyone under eighteen.  They'll just have to wait a few years."

                I shoved Youji with my good arm.  "You _wish they were all looking for you!"  I turned back to Kenji.  "They were probably Omi's fangirls, actually.  So I guess you found Omi there?"_

                "Tsukiyono-san?  Yes, and he was good enough to point me here."  Kenji's smile was slightly predatory.  "You work in a flower shop?  After everything that I heard, it was almost unreal to walk into that colorful place …"

                I snorted.  _Persia probably was laughing when he picked our cover job.  "It's a long story - not all that important."_

                Kenji seemed willing to let it go.  He shrugged, sobering.  "Hidaka-san, I came because I'm concerned.  I understand that you have agreed to work with Yumi Ryuuki - a witch--"

                I shook my head, interrupting him.  "I know what you said about witches, Yamamoto-san, but I don't have a choice at the moment, anyway.  She … she has brought to my attention something vitally important."

                "That's not what worries me," Kenji said patiently.  "It's Bethany."

                "Damn, she's just causing everyone problems," Youji put in.  "What the hell is she?  Yumi-san claimed she didn't know."

                Kenji frowned.  "I can't tell you that I'm sure, either.  I've never met her - very few living people have.  However, she's … she's not human."

                "_Gomen nasai, Yamamoto-san, but __duh she's not human," I said flatly.  "I know what she's not, but not what she is."_

                Kenji smiled wanly.  "_Wakarimashita."  He paused.  "Supposedly, she's a high-level vampire, but I doubt that.  Personally, I think - you're going to say I'm crazy."_

                "Try me," I said.

                "All right," Kenji conceded slowly.  "Very few people agree with me, Hidaka-san, but I think Bel'uah is a demon."

                "A … demon?  As in, minion from hell?" asked Youji when I just gaped at the Necromancer.

                "I don't know where she comes from, Kudou-san, but her sphere of influence suggests nothing else!" Kenji vehemently defended himself.

                I held up my hand.  "Okay, okay.  I don't know if I can believe that, Yamamoto-san, but I don't think it really matters what she is.  She's obviously in control of a lot of creatures, superhumans, whatever."  I looked at Kenji intently.  "She said that she has uses for me.  What could that mean?"

                Kenji shook his head slowly.  "I don't know …" His eyebrows crinkled as he puzzled over something.  "I wonder if it all ties together …"

                "Huh?"

                "Bel'uah has been more … active, as of late.  Like you said, Hidaka-san, she controls a vast majority of creatures in the Underground, but those that she doesn't control have been dying more often in the past year or so."  He seemed to mull things over a bit before continuing.  "Rogue vampire covens, for instance."

                I thought back to when I had gotten Aya's blood rites returned.  _In fact, I would be grateful …_

                Kenji was still talking.  "… reconstructed souls … some Reapers …" he shuddered.

                "What the hell is a Reaper?" I demanded.

                Kenji winced.  "It's actually short for Grim Reaper.  They're spirits, but the only substantial part of their being is their weapon - a scythe.  You have to disarm them to kill them.  Trust me, it sounds easier than it is," he said when Youji and I exchanged glances.  "You'd think they're uncontrollable, but Bethany has a few under her thumb."

                "Right," I nodded, willing to accept just about anything now.  "You were saying something about Bel'uah being more active?"

                "Yeah."  Kenji rubbed his chin, frowning slightly.  "I think she's staging a takeover."

                "A what?" I asked dully.

                "Bel'uah is trying to - er - take over the Underground.  Wipe out all her opponents so she rules Tokyo."

                "Why?  Doesn't seem like much of a domain to rule," Youji said.

                "You'd be amazed by how much the everyday world is effected by the Underground," Kenji said dryly.  "It's only the struggle for power that keeps the strongest creatures of the Underground from really impacting the ordinary person's life.  If Bethany destroyed all opponents in Tokyo, the city would be at her mercy.  She'd be able to do whatever she pleased, and no one who had the ability and will to oppose her would be alive to do so."

                An involuntary shiver at the thought of the creature Bel'uah ruling Tokyo crept down my spine.  "I've never thought of it that way before."

                "Not everyone does."  Kenji snorted.  "That's the real reason you should avoid the witches.  Lately they seem to be inclined to think handing themselves over to Bethany and the like would be worth the power they'd gain.  They're deluding themselves - that monster will kill them all, good riddance."

                "So why haven't they joined her, then?" I couldn't help asking.

                Kenji's smile was self-depreciating and ironic.  "Because the most powerful witch in Tokyo refuses to give in, and ultimately, everyone follows her orders."  He barely sighed, looking as if he wanted to laugh bitterly.

                "Who's the most powerful witch, then?  Yumi?" I asked.

                The Necromancer did laugh then.  "Haha! No, no … Yumi's a candle next to a forest fire compared to that witch."  He shook his head slowly.  "Oh, no.  The most powerful witch in Tokyo is Kaori Yamamoto - and before you ask, yes, we're related.  Kaori Yamamoto is my grandmother."

                That took a moment to sink in.  "Oh," I finally said.

                "Yeah.  Imagine my surprise when I found out," Kenji said flatly.

                "Then your grandmother is pretty much the only one standing between Bethany and all of Tokyo?" Youji asked.

                "That's about right."

I was silent for a moment.  "Er … should we be encouraged?"

Kenji shrugged.  "I don't pretend to know what Babaa thinks.  But she's stubborn as hell and rather attached to the power of her position, so I don't see her handing over anything to Bethany anytime soon."

"That's good, I guess."

There was an awkward silence while Kenji frowned at his lap and I fidgeted with the blanket and Youji scrutinized Kenji.  I wondered if Youji could sense any of the Necromancer's thoughts.

Kenji finally spoke up again.  "Okay, though, here's the main reason I'm particularly concerned about Bethany.  The first one is that apparently she's rumored to be behind the death of fourteen or fifteen witches this last week and a half, and they're all part of the coven that you had contact with."

"I know about that already," I said.

Kenji nodded.  "I guessed as much.  The second reason, however, is Bethany's sudden interest in a living Hunter.  There are and have been other Vampire Slayers besides you, Hidaka-san, and Bethany has either not taken notice of them or killed them promptly."

"Hey, don't look to me for answers on that one," I said, ice creeping down my backbone.  "I don't _know_ what she wants with me!"

"Well, you might want to find out.  It sounds like she wants you to do something for her."

"And maybe she's trying to turn me into one of her zombie followers in the process," I snapped.  "She's tried to screw with my head before."

"And you're okay?" Kenji asked incredulously.

I looked at him warily.  "You don't have to sound so surprised."

"Sorry.  That's just … I've never heard of it happening before.  Either you're very lucky, very strong, or …" he trailed off.  "Maybe it's because you're a Hunter.  I don't know of any time Bethany has tried to make a Hunter her servant."

I shrugged.

Kenji glanced at his watch.  "I probably better be going, Hidaka-san."  He stood.  "Get well soon.  You'll probably need that arm."

"I'm sure I will," I said dryly.  "_Ja ne_, Yamamoto-san."

Kenji bowed.  "_Ja ne_, Hidaka-san, Kudou-san."  He smiled slightly.  "And watch out for werewolves – tonight's the full moon."   With those chilling words, he left.

_Werewolves_ … I winced, my hand going to my neck where the one werewolf had bitten me.  _Full moon.  Tonight's the night of truth, I guess …_  "Youji, you should probably go home."

"I thought you didn't want to be left alone," Youji snapped out of what looked like a private reverie to tease me.

"Trust me, Youji," I said.  _If Aya comes by tonight, it'll probably be _him_ who suffers._

Youji stood and stretched.  "Need time to think?"

"Sort of.  You have any questions?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"Lots of 'em, but none you could answer.  I'm going to do some sniffing of my own tonight," the playboy informed me, throwing a light jacket over his shoulders.

"Don't get yourself killed," I said, only half-joking.  "Miki's still out there."

"That's why I'm packing the .38," Youji smirked.  "Worry about yourself, Kenken – you've got the most powerful creature on the block after you."  He picked up the paper bag full of shuriken.  "I'll deliver these to Omicchi.  See you tomorrow?"

"And hopefully not in this room?" I put in.  The next day was supposedly my hospital release date.

"_Aa_," Youji laughed.  "_Ja ne,_ Kenken!"

"Don't call me that!" I protested as the door shut behind the playboy.

Now there was nothing to do but wait.

And wait … and wait …

*   *   *

_It was a barren clearing in a forest.  I was in my assassin gear.  Wolves surrounded me.  I brandished my claws and bared my teeth at them, determined not to lose.  For some reason, I never even thought of the gun tucked in my inner pocket._

_The first wolf leapt, and I killed him in a shower of hot, sticky blood.  Gasping for breath, I took on the next one, and the next, and then three at once, and then four, and I was overwhelmed.  I could feel their bites burning and their claws tearing at my skin as I was dragged to my knees before finally a set of jaws closed on my throat and ripped it out in a moment of pure agony._

My eyes flew open.  I saw the all-too-familiar white ceiling of the recovery room and I tried to sit up only to find that my arms were both strapped to the bed.  "_Oi!_  Nurse!" I cried, a little hysterical.  Did I black out and become a werewolf, or was it just a bad dream?  _Why would I be strapped to the bed if it was just a dream!?_  "_Oi!_" I tried again.

Just then a nurse came scuttling in, bowing to me.  "_Gomen nasai_, Hidaka-san!"  She began to untie the bonds.  "You had a night terror.  The nurse on the night shift came in to wake you, but you very nearly attacked him, shouting about wolves!  He had to restrain you so you wouldn't hurt yourself."

My heart was still wildly thudding in my chest.  "Then … that was it?  I was just dreaming?"

The nurse looked up at me curiously.  "Of course, Hidaka-san.  Did you think the wolves were real?"

I shook my head quickly, not particularly interested in becoming an experiment for some psychologist.  I was messed up enough without one of those cracks poking around my brain.  "No, _ojou-san_.  It was just a very vivid dream.  Tell the night shift that I'm grateful for his efforts on my behalf."

The nurse smiled reassuringly.  "I will.  I'll have breakfast brought up immediately.  You're going home today!"  She bustled out of the room.

I smiled.  "Yeah …" _Back to my crazy life._  At least no one in Weiss could _force_ me to take the painkillers that the docs had shoved on me this last week, and I hated hospitals enough to be glad I was going despite the increased risks.  Besides, I had a lot of work to do.

Well, that shot down one concern.  I obviously wasn't a werewolf.  I wondered how I had avoided being poisoned by the bite briefly before a young woman in a white lab coat came in – a doctor, by the look of her.  She was flipping through papers on a clipboard, and she just stood next to my bed for several moments, absorbed in the contents of the papers, before she finally looked up at me.  "Hidaka-san, you're looking well today."  She smiled.

"Thank you," I nodded.

She flipped the papers on the clipboard again.  "Since today is your release date, we need to do some preliminary testing – give you a regular checkup, take an x-ray of your shoulder and ribs, check the damage to your torso and wrenched ankle, and a do few blood tests.  Unless we find something particularly disturbing, you should be free to go home."  She handed the board to me, along with a pen.  "Sign here, please.  We've been instructed to forward all bills to a Miss Kasumi, so you needn't worry about the cost.  You have quite a generous benefactor, Hidaka-san!"

I signed with a flourish.  'Miss Kasumi' was, of course, Persia (working through Manx).  The cost of my treatment wasn't on the sheet, but I didn't particularly want to know how much I had just cost my boss.  "Thank you for your time and concern," I said courteously.

"It's our pleasure."  She took back the clipboard, tucked it under her arm, and drew the wheelchair away from its place by the door.  For the last half of my imprisonment I had insisted on going for rides around the hospital daily (although I felt I could probably walk just fine, the docs refused to let me try).  "If you please, Hidaka-san?"

"Anywhere is better than this room," I told the doctor honestly.  She laughed.

*   *   *

The tests revealed that I was healing at a remarkable rate.  The doctors seemed very impressed by the results of my x-rays, which showed my ribs were only bruised now and my formerly shattered shoulder no longer needed a cast.  I was glad to be rid of it; they gave me a sling and insisted I keep my arm in it for a week or two.  My ankle, which had been just short of sprained, was fully healed.  My torso was still tender, but the doctors said that unless I did something crazy (_like chasing around demon lords and killing vampires_, I thought wryly), the internal stitches would hold.  My white blood cell count was a bit high, but I was told that was to be expected – who knew how many infections I had nearly incurred from my injuries?  Also, they warned me, I was still making for the amount of blood I had lost.  I should watch out for vertigo and loss of consciousness – signs that I was suffering from too little blood.

All in all, the docs were force to concede, I was in good health considering what I had suffered.  I could go home.  I managed to refrain from shouting with joy, but I grinned like a maniac as I changed into my own clothes in the bathroom (kindly left with me last night by Youji).  Finally, I could stop just _worrying_ about everything and _do _something about it.

I was ushered off to a waiting room while the doctors debated some obscure detail of my health and the bill for restoring it to me.  I took the opportunity to pore over what Youji, Kenji and I had discussed the night before.

_So, Bethany is a creature with a lot of power, poised to take over the entirety of Tokyo.  There's only one thing standing between her and that takeover – and that's Kenji's grandmother.  The logical thing for Bethany to do, then, is eliminate Kaori Yamamoto._

_Where the hell do _I_ come into this, then?  Why does she want me alive?  Bethany's killed off the majority of a coven of witches that I've associated with.  Is that because of me?  If so, why?  And the vampire coven – obviously they must be a 'rogue vampire coven', or she wouldn't have wanted me to kill them.  Is that why Stacey wanted Pierre to kill Bel'uah?_

_And Aya … what does Aya have to do with all this?  He's a psi-vampire for sure; if what Stacey said was true, Aya drank her blood, too!  How much does he know about what Bel'uah is up to?  Does he have any free will left?_

Three pieces to a very dangerous puzzle, and I knew they fit together – if only I could figure out how!  I cursed my IQ and complete inability to use logic.  All I knew to do was to follow my instincts, and my instincts told me that Bethany Gramm was the most dangerous thing I'd ever come up against – far more dangerous than the witches or Aya, although the danger of my teammate and Bel'uah were connected.

That's when the doctors finally came back and told me I could go.

*   *   *

                "Hidaka-san, we can't let you walk home."

                "Why not?  My ankle's fine, my apartment is only a few blocks from here, and I've already got all the prescriptions you want me to take."  I hoisted the bags of drugs they wanted me to take.  (I planned to dump most of them; drugs are useful to kill pain to a point, but it was easy to get addicted – an experience I didn't want to repeat, as it had been hard enough to come off the pills after treatment when I 'died' at the warehouse.)

                The docs and I were standing at the door of the lobby of the hospital.  I was prepared to go home – I didn't have much to carry, so I could walk back to the _Koneko_ carrying my stuff without even using my left arm.  Still, the doctors were being picky, and they were blocking my way to the door.  I almost mimed along with one bald-headed man as he said, "We don't want you to strain yourself, Hidaka-san."

I sighed in exasperation.  "I'm not going to strain myself.  I'm going to walk home in the middle of the day where there are no hidden obstacles and the traffic is at its lightest."

"Please, Hidaka-san, just call someone to pick you up," begged a nurse.

"Look, everyone I know should be at work.  I have to help out, anyway, so please just—"

"Ken-kun!"

I jerked my head up at the urgent shout.  Omi stood just inside the doorway, chest heaving, eyes wild.  "Ken-kun, come with me, right now!"

"Coming, Omi!" I called back, catching his nervousness.  My heart sped up.  I pushed though the doctors.  "Got a ride," I said flatly as I hustled out the doors with Omi.

"What is it?" I asked as soon as we were out the door.  "Did Miki show up?"

Omi looked physically sick.  "No – I mean, yes – she came last night – but that's not what's happening—" He began to gasp for breath – he was hyperventilating.

"What?" I demanded, taking my arm out of its sling and grabbing Omi by the shoulders, squatting to his eye level.  He was hysterical; I was amazed he'd managed to get his motorbike over here safely.  I shook him to help him speak coherently.  "Stop hyperventilating, calm down!  What is happening, Omi?  It's okay, we'll handle it – we can handle anything now," I assured him.

But Omi wasn't reassured.  He took breaths in huge gulps, nodding frantically.  "A-Aya-kun – Aya-kun, he—" he shuddered in my hands.  "H-h-he a-attacked Youji-kun!"  He stared at me.  "K-Ken-kun, A-Aya-kun can't b-be human!"

Dread washed over me and poured down my spine and my brain spent a few moments cranking wildly before my thoughts ordered themselves a little.  Miki had come, but that wasn't important.  Aya was attacking Youji.  Obviously he wasn't trying to hide that he was capable of things no human could do.  He did this in front of Omi.  _Why!?_ I wondered fiercely, but there was no time for a question like that.  "We've got to hurry," I said, trying as hard as I could to stay calm.  "Omi, it's okay.  Let me ride your bike home so I can take care of it."  I was sure I was better equipped to deal with the psi-vampire.  "Did you bring any guns?"

Omi was still breathing hard, but he wasn't hyperventilating and his eyes were a little less wild.  "I-I brought your gun … I have the Beretta …" he trailed off, eyes going out of focus.  I shook him again and Omi focused on me again.  "I d-drove your motorcycle because it's faster – it's right over there—" he pointed, and I followed his finger to my mode of transportation.

"Okay, all the better," I said, grabbing Omi's arm and dragging him to my motorcycle.  First I found my .44 and put it in my jacket pocket.  I flung my only helmet onto Omi's head, made him sit behind me and wrap his arms around my waist, and gunned the engine.  In a moment we were roaring towards the _Koneko_.  "They're at the shop, right?" I shouted against the wind.

"Y-yes."  I could barely hear Omi's voice.  "Ken-kun, I'm sorry I didn't – I mean, I panicked – I tried throwing shuriken at him – not to kill him, but to get him off Youji-kun, but Aya-kun just pulled them out and the wounds healed right away!"  Omi was panicky again.

"_Maa, maa_, Omi," I said as soothingly as I could on a motorcycle, riding towards one of the most screwed up situations I'd ever heard of.  "Everything will be fine—" _I hope, oh gods I hope so badly_, I added mentally.

We weaved through traffic – I drove unsafely, ignoring yellow lights and cutting between stopped vehicles.  I made record time reaching the flower shop and skidded to a stop in the back garage.

Ignoring Omi now, I freed the Beretta from the strap on my motorcycle that it hung from and flipped off its safety.  I couldn't think of Aya as my partner; he was my enemy, my target, the agent of Bethany.  _I might have to kill him_, I thought.

I couldn't think about it.

It was eerily quiet except for Omi fumbling with my helmet.  I barreled into the storage room, pointing the shotgun ahead of me, ready to mortally wound Aya (I couldn't make myself believe I could kill Aya) if need be.

I was not at all ready for the scene before me.  The shotgun clattered from my suddenly slack hand as I stared and by some miracle it didn't go off.

Youji lay on the table, eyes blank and unseeing, staring at the ceiling.  His right arm was at an odd angle and I couldn't bear the look of it A long gash across his chest was still soaking his shirt with blood.  His chest rose and fell at irregular intervals; he was barely breathing.

And Aya was bent over him, his sharp little fangs buried in the playboy's neck.

_So … Aya has a blood fetish …_

Those were my last coherent thoughts before anger overtook me.

"Aya!!" I screamed, tearing forward and driving my fist towards his upturned cheek.  I was filled with an unholy rage; I could hardly see for the red mist before my eyes.

A violet eye opened and rolled up to look at me.  Suddenly Aya's fingers found their way to the wound in Youji's chest.  Faster than I could see, he dislodged his teeth from Youji's throat and whipped his blood-covered fingers through the air, speaking vaguely familiar words.  "_Fuuka no ken!"_  Like blades the air around me sliced my skin, cutting me shallowly along the arms, legs, and chest.  I barely felt the pain as I continued forward, crashing my fist into the taller assassin's jaw.  I hoped he bit his tongue off.  I hoped his jaw broke.  I hoped he died.  I honest-to-heaven hoped that Aya died.

He didn't die, but he did stagger.  He stood back for a moment and I just stood there, chest heaving, fists still clenched, trying to decide what to do next.  "You – you—" I began.  There were no words to describe what Aya was.

Then Aya straightened almost regally, rubbing his chin and seeming to consider me.  It was an entirely too Bel'uah-like look, and I shuddered involuntarily, fear nudging in to join anger.

He spoke.  "Bethany-sama wants to speak with you again," he said.

"She can wait," I growled, my rage springing back to life.  "You fucking psi, you goddamn fucking psi, I could give a shit if you drink some damn vampire's blood, but Youji's!?  I'll send you to whatever hell is reserved for creatures like you!"

Aya closed his eyes, a small smirk coming to his mouth.  It looked horribly unnatural.  "If you value Youji and Omi's lives, you will not."  He paused.  "I can heal Youji in part, but only if you go to Bethany-sama.  He's too close to death right now to make it to the hospital."

I grit my teeth so hard I swear I must have cracked a tooth.  I shook with rage.  "I – I – damn you!" I finally screamed.  "Damn you!  I'll go!  Heal him or I'll kill you, dammit!" I spat, turning away, not even noticing that my wounds were beginning to drip blood or that Omi was gaping, white as a ghost, at the scene before him.  I tore out the door, remembering the shotgun at the last moment and packing it.  I mounted my motorcycle and whipped down the road.

_Bel'uah!  This time there won't be any of your goddamn games!  I'm going to kill you, whatever the hell you are!_

*   *   *

Author's notes: ::insert evil laughter here::

Ah me, this will be fun!  ^^x;;;;

You know, bastardization of Aya is really very fun!  I know he's a little OOC – that's on purpose, so don't harass me about it.  As to Omi, well – he's pretty shaken up by Aya's behavior, so that's why he's hysterical.  Ken would probably be hysterical if he hadn't already known that Aya was a psi-vampire.

However, I'm going to pat myself on the back here – I think that Ken is marvelously IC in the last scene.  Reacting without thought – that's our Kenken!  ::nuzzle:: It's part of the reason I love him.

Um, um … I hope you all liked Kenji … more on him later … the plot thickens!  We near the climax – here we come!  ^^x;;;

Oh, and of course – thank you soooo much for all the reviews!  I'm always hoping for more, so keep 'em coming – it's an awesome motivator!  ^^x

~~Vikki


	10. Part Ten

_Dream of Crimson – Part X_

_By Vikki_

Disclaimer:  I don't own the Weiss boys, but Kenji and Bethany are mine.  ^^x  By the time you finish reading this chapter, you'll probably agree that it's a good thing I don't own WK!

Flame Policy:  Ken will kill you, then Kenji will bring you to life, and Ken will kill you again.  If you flame me again, we can repeat the process.  ::big grin::

*   *   *

                At Bethany's business building I was sorely tempted to take in the shotgun, but at the last minute reason overcame my anger and I decided that my .44 would kill Bethany just as thoroughly.  I stormed in the front door and across the lobby.  The secretary stood up as I passed.  "Hidaka-san?  Is that you?  Gramm-san is waiting for you—"

                "I know," I snapped, not even stopping.  "Let her know I'm here."

It was a good thing that an elevator door was open, because I might otherwise have torn something down.  I punched the button to the eighty-first floor and waited impatiently as the numbers at the top of the door lit in order – too slowly.  I growled under my breath.

After several eternities, the elevator doors finally opened.  I stamped down the hall and into the lobby of Bel'uah's office.

Again the secretary didn't look up at me, but the bodyguard in front of Bethany's door didn't move, crossing his arms when I glared at him.  "Ms. Gramm is on the phone," he said.  "I can't let you in yet."

I saw red.  She wasn't going to get away so easily! I crossed the distance to the guard in an instant, grabbed his shirt, and dragged him down to my eye level.  He stared at me (I must have looked too puny to pull a strong guy like him down) and I glared back.  "Try and stop me!" I snarled.  Supernatural strength coursed in my arms and I threw the huge man aside with ease.  He lay there, spluttering, as I tore open the doors of Bethany's office and stalked inside.  I was only vaguely aware of the secretary's cry of dismay as she made a frantic phone call.

Bethany was indeed on the phone, sitting in her big leather chair and chatting amiably.  She looked up at me with a relaxed smile.  "Excuse me, I must go," she said to the person on the phone, at which point she hung up.  "Hidaka-san how nice to—"

I pulled out my gun and pointed it at her nose.  "Die."

Immediately Bethany's eyes narrowed.  "I would not do that if I were you," she said coldly, "unless you don't care about Kudou-san and Tsukiyono-san.  Aya is under orders to kill them if anything happens to me."

I gave her a manic grin, my mouth twitching.  Something frightening was welling up inside me.  "Oh?  Oh?  How will he know?  I'll kill you and take Youji and Omi away before he even knows you're dead.  I'll do it.  Maybe I'll kill him too."

Bethany closed her eyes and smiled slightly.  "He'll know the moment I'm dead.  Besides, I wouldn't let myself be killed so easily," she added, opening her eyes and looking at the gun in her face.

I began to tremble – whether from anger or fear I didn't know.  I had the urge to cry, which didn't make much sense.  _You're losing it, Hidaka! I thought.  It was almost enough to make me giggle hysterically._

She was still speaking.  "Put the gun down now, Hidaka-san."

Slowly, forcibly, I replaced the gun in my pocket, but didn't let go.  _Think of Omi!  Think of Youji!  __Kill her later.  Keep Youji and Omi alive.  I swallowed convulsively and pried my fingers from the sweaty grip._

"Good boy," Bethany said in a condescending tone.  I bit back an angry retort and blinked back the tears stinging my eyes.  Damned if I would show Bel'uah any weakness!  "Please, relax, sit down."

I took a deep breath and clenched my fists at my sides.  The hysteria was passing and anger's cold grip was taking me again.  _I have to be reasonable!  I have to be smart!  What would Youji do? Or Omi?  "No, thank you," I grit out.  "Would you __kindly tell me why the hell you wanted to see me?"_

Bethany smiled coldly.  "How like you, cutting straight to the point," she said with a laugh.

_Bitch!  Gods, don't say that out loud!  Think like Youji!  "Excuse me for worrying about my friends.  Besides, I wouldn't want to bleed on your nice chairs," I added at the last minute.  I promptly berated myself.  __Not too__ much like Youji!_

"How considerate," Bethany said dryly.  Suddenly her eyes focused over my shoulder and she spoke in English.  When she looked back to me, she explained, "I was telling the secretary to call off security.  Next time, don't toss my bodyguard four meters through the air."  She gave me a bemused smile.  "Are you enjoying your newfound skills as a Hunter?  I understand you did quite well cleaning up the coven – only a werewolf remains, I'm told."

It took me several moments to click through those facts, I was so angry.  _Miki is dead.  Omi and Youji must have killed her.  I drew a calming breath and let it out.  "I'll ask you one more time.  Why did you want to see me?"_

"You are not in the position to issue ultimatums," Bel'uah told me.  She smirked slightly.  "You're so easily ruffled.  I can see why Ryuuki-san harassed you that night."

I blinked.  "How the hell did you—"

"Know?  I know many things about you – perhaps more than you yourself know.  And despite how cliché that may sound to you, it's quite likely the truth."  A short pause followed that statement as I worried about how truthful it was (and tried very hard not to jump across the desk and rip her nice, white throat out of her neck) and Bethany fiddled with her blouse.  Finally she continued.  "Very well, I'll cut right to the point.  You know about Kaori Yamamoto – don't try and hide it, I know all about you and that boy Necromancer.  She is an inconvenience to my brethren and me.  I have decided that I want you, Hidaka-san, to kill her."

_Click.  Like a key in a lock, two pieces of my imaginary puzzle fit together.  Bethany, who wanted Kaori Yamamoto dead, wanted me to do the dirty work.  Of course, there was the obvious question.  "Why me?"_

Bethany smiled coldly, cocking her head.  "Why _not_?  You already kill for a living.  Why should one more dead body matter to you?"

_I already loathe myself for accepting this life; I don't need your help!  _I clenched my teeth and took a deep breath, stepping away from my personal hellhole of angst and struggling to focus on what was important.  "What happens if I say no?"

"Kudou-san and Tsukiyono-san will die," Bethany said casually, as if killing them would be swatting flies.

_Naturally.  The desire to rip Bethany to shreds found its way to the forefront again and I had to wrestle with it before I could speak.  "… I … I don't see how I'd have any advantage over you in trying to kill her," I said in a last ditch effort to wiggle out from under her thumb._

"Miss Kaori won't be expecting it," Bethany fairly spat the witch's name; I was impressed that Kaori had managed to make Bethany mad, as nothing seemed to phase the creature before me.  "She expects an attack from me, but from a Hunter …? Never," she smirked.  Her cold eyes pierced me.  "Nice try, Hidaka-san."

My throat went dry.  I swallowed.  _What is she, psychic?  Maybe she really is__ a demon._

"Would you like the details?"  Bel'uah smirked at my discomfort.

_The bitch wants me to _beg_ for a job I don't want to have anything to do with!  _I growled low in my throat, but after a moment or two, I managed to say, "… yes," grudgingly.

"Very well."  She leaned forward, putting her elbows on her desk.  "I want Yamamoto dead by midnight tomorrow.  That gives you approximately 36 hours to locate and kill her."  She paused for a moment.  "If you fail to kill her in the allotted time, Kudou-san and Tsukiyono-san will die.  If you succeed … we'll see about rewards."  She smiled.

I winced slightly, slowly realizing I was being faced with a serious moral dilemma – save all of Tokyo from evil, or save my friends from death?

_I really hate my life.  "Do you have any idea where to find the witch?"  I had to at least play along for the time being, even if I didn't go through with it._

"Unfortunately, no."  Bethany's eyes bored into me.  "Allow me to warn you: if you do anything uncouth, Ken Hidaka, you will sorely regret it."

I was sure I would.  Discretion wasn't my strong point, but if I was going to cross Bethany Gramm, then I would have to prove otherwise.  "_Hai__," I said resignedly._

"Then you may go," she said dismissively.

I bowed stiffly and left.

*   *   *

                I didn't return to the _Koneko directly; instead I drove around Tokyo's business district for a while, letting my anger cool off.  My emotions were desperately tangled – fear, confusion, and an intense hatred of Bethany were only the foremost in my mind.  Besides, I needed to try to step back from the situation and think it through._

Eventually, I stopped at a gas station/convenience store to fuel my motorcycle and myself.  As I chewed on my tuna sandwich I wished I were Omi, who was good at troubleshooting, or even Youji, who could keep a cool head in any and every situation.  Hell, I would have even taken Aya, frozen ice block of emotions that he was.  It would have been far easier to think if I wasn't so angry at both Bel'uah and her turncoat lackey Aya.

I went over every detail of my conversation with Bethany, and the first thing that floated to the surface of my jumbled thoughts was Bethany's revelation that Aya would know of her death the moment it happened.  What on earth did that mean?  Would someone call him?  No; she used the word 'moment', and she never used words she didn't mean.  Some kind of high-tech device? It was possible; the gods knew I didn't know software from hardware.  However, Persia seemed to have connections in that business, and Omi was often gushing about some amazing new gadget Manx had brought to us.  I suspected that we probably always had (or heard about) the latest technology, and I had never heard of some remote machine that told you about a death the instant it occurred.

As I pored over the question, something suddenly hit me, and I smacked myself on the head for not thinking of it earlier.  Why couldn't the explanation be supernatural?  Maybe they had a psychic connection – a telepathic link!  The more I thought about it, the more it made sense.  Aya always knew what Bethany wanted.  Hell, he had 'predicted' her first phone call!  In addition, Bethany always knew anything that Aya knew.  Her startling revelations were rarely anything that Aya himself hadn't been around to see.  _That has to be how it works!_

Now the question became more metaphysical.  If they indeed had this link, what were the implications?  Obviously she could spy mercilessly on Weiss.  Anything I did around Aya had to be considered something seen by Bel'uah.  Could Bethany take total control of Aya with this link?  I winced at the thought, but it made a sick, twisted sense.  My rage towards my teammate began to crumble as I thought of how Aya had acted so much like Bethany.  Perhaps it wasn't Aya doing that at all!  Maybe it was only Bethany working through Aya's body!

I began to get excited as I warmed up to the idea.  _Now, don't be too sure – who knows__ how much Aya was doing on his own, warned a little voice, but I couldn't help wanting it to all be Bel'uah's doing.  It would take a lot of guilt off my hands, that was sure._

Now that I had at least an idea of what was going on between Aya and Bethany, I could probably strike at it.  If I could break that connection somehow, I could free Aya!  _Hold on, what if he doesn't want to be freed? Asked the more practical side of my mind, but I squashed the thought.  My happier thoughts snowballed.  If Aya wasn't under Bethany's control anymore, than he wouldn't be under any compulsion to kill Youji and Omi, thus ending any lasting threat to Weiss and freeing us from her influence.  I'd be free to kill Bel'uah!  Compulsively I slammed my hand down on the table, muttering, "Yes!"_

All eyes in the little store turned on me.  I apologized sheepishly, paid for my sandwich, and went back to my motorcycle.

*   *   *

"I hate to say this, Hidaka-san, but until now you've come up awfully short on your end of the deal.  I've given you all the information you need, but you've hardly done a thing for me."

Yumi gazed at me calmly through exhausted eyes from where she sat on one of the rickety wooden chairs that populated the focus room of the Hot Cat Club.  I stood awkwardly just inside the door, resisting the urge to fidget or just fold up on the floor from the heavy, crackling aura of power in the focus room.  The presence of Yumi and the three remaining witches of her coven, all staring at me as if I came from Mars, weren't helping.

"I, uh … I'm sorry, Yumi-san," I said finally.  "I don't – well, look.  I just need you to do one more thing for me, and then I'll kill Bethany-san, no sweat."

Yumi cocked her head slightly.  "And that is, Hidaka-san …?"

"I need you to – okay, this is only a guess, but if I'm right, I need this – I need you to sever a psychic connection between Bel'uah and a psychic vampire."

Yumi raised her eyebrows, and then she got a frighteningly shrewd look on her face.  "Why?"

"It's personal, and-and-and – well, geez, why don't you just ask that amazing contact of yours, anyway?"

"Her information has been limited as of late," Yumi said flatly.  She glanced at the other witches in the room, but neither of them turned their gaze from me.  "Hidaka-san, what you're asking of me is very dangerous at the best of times, with a full coven, much less with only the four of us.  Especially because you're asking me to do this to Bel'uah. That creature could trace the power source directly back to us, and where would that leave us?  We're trying to avoid death – not invite it."  She paused and frowned slightly, but the look passed and her gaze resumed its neutral stare.  "Beyond that, with these limited numbers, I don't believe it could be done."

She looked as if she was about to say more, but my patience was running thin.  I was running on a timetable, after all.  "If it's impossible, just say so," I snapped.  "I don't care about all the explanations – none of this matters to me.  I'm trying to salvage a few lives here, but if it comes down to the wire, I—"

I broke off and stared at my toes as it hit me like a gong.  If it came down to the wire, what _would_ I do?  Kill Bethany, thus putting my friends to death but arguably saving Tokyo, or kill Kaori Yamamoto, and subject Tokyo to a questionable fate?

_Oh, hell._

"It's not impossible, Hidaka-san," Yumi said, breaking in on my thoughts.  I looked up at her.  She looked impassively at me.  "No; it's just impossible for _us_.  Kaori Yamamoto could break this connection."

I stared at her.  "Kaori Yamamoto …" _Well, that's ironic._  Struggling to keep a poker face, I asked, "And where could I find this Kaori Yamamoto?"

Yumi shrugged.  "She keeps her whereabouts a secret.  She has good reason to fear for her life."

"So … you don't know?"

_"Hai."_

I rolled my eyes.  "Okay, well, that does me a fat lot of good, doesn't it?" I said sarcastically.  "Thanks anyway.  Kiss your butt goodbye, sister, because there's no guarantee it'll be there tomorrow."  I turned dramatically to leave, frustrated and unsure what to do next.

"We could break her influence if she were dead," said one of the other three witches.

I spun back around and gave the witch an incredulous look.  "Erm, wouldn't her influence break on its own if she were dead …?"

"Not necessarily.  Traces of aura left behind can continue to exert influence after death."  This time it was Yumi that spoke.

I looked at Yumi for a long moment.  She tilted her head and looked back at me.  "What is it, Hidaka-san?"

I thought of several things to say – I wanted to tell her to do something anatomically impossible, but it wasn't _her_ fault that Youji and Omi were on a knife's edge.  I considered spilling the beans, but long-bred distrust stopped me.  I nearly demanded that she at least _try_ to break the bond between Aya and Bethany, but I had promised to help her, and I didn't want her death on my conscience.

I said, "Never mind."

I left.

*   *   *

                "_Kore__ wa_ Catch-22 _desu_," said Kenji Yamamoto.

                "_Ka-chu …?_" I stumbled over the foreign word.

                Kenji shook his head.  "It's an American phrase meaning 'impossible situation' – a quandary.  Never mind.  Point is, we need to get you out of it."

It was about 6 o'clock at night, and I was at Kenji's firearms store in downtown Tokyo.  After a lot of stalling I'd decided to tell Kenji what had happened; he was the one who had helped me the most since the whole mess had started, and he'd never asked for anything in return.  I wanted to – _needed _to – believe I could trust him.

Kenji had not disappointed.  After helping me clean up the shallow cuts Aya had given me, he produced cans of soda and we sat down to discuss facts.

He now continued, "I called this a Catch-22 because it's a loop.  You have to kill Bethany to save your friends, but if you kill Bethany, your friends will die.  There's no visible solution.  So, what are your options?"

I held out a hand and ticked off the possibilities.  "I could kill Bethany, which would result in Aya killing Youji and Omi.  I could kill Aya, which would save Youji and Omi, but … well.  And it wouldn't get to the heart of the problem, which is Bel'uah.  The third option is to kill your grandmother, but that turns all of Tokyo over to Bel'uah."  I paused.  "And I guess you really wouldn't like it too much if I kill your _obaa__-san_ anyway …"

"Actually," Kenji interrupted me, his eyes unfocused and fierce, "It wouldn't bother me at all if you killed Babaa.  But all grudges aside, that's not a safe option due to Bethany's power."  It was his turn to ponder things for a moment.  "Bel'uah said that she wants Babaa dead by midnight tomorrow?"

"Yes," I said cautiously.

Kenji thumbed his chin.  "That's odd … _shimatta__!_  I wish I'd studied my astrology more carefully!  Hang on for a moment."  With that, Kenji hopped off the stool he had perched on and disappeared into the back room.

I stood up.  "_Nan desu ka, Kenji-san?_"

_"Nandemonai._Just hang on for a moment," Kenji called.  I heard papers being pushed around and file cabinets opening as I sank back into my chair.

After a minute Kenji reappeared, carrying a chart in the crook of his elbow and a humongous book in both arms.  He dropped both on the counter between himself and me and promptly began to spread the rolled chart.  "Take that roll of tape and put it on that corner – thanks – a paperweight should do there – all right."  Kenji straightened and let me look at the spread poster.

It was a picture of the night sky during the current season, with different planets indicated and constellations traced out.  I frowned slightly; Kenji, on the other hand, pored over it, tracing straight lines between planets and stars.  "I wonder …" he muttered, before mumbling incoherently in English.  After a minute or so he suddenly turned to the huge book and yanked it open, examined a page full of runes opposite a page of English, and began to flip furiously through the pages.

I've never been very patient, and this time was no exception.  "Uh, what are you doing?"

Kenji looked up at me as if surprised I was still sitting there.  "Oh, uh, looking for information about the position of the stars tomorrow night."  He turned back to the book.

Before he could become absorbed in his reading, however, I asked, _"Doushite?"_

Kenji looked up at me again, this time wearing the same look Omi gave me whenever I asked him what he was doing on the computer.  "Astrological positions of the stars and planets may or may not have an effect on the world, but most members of the Underground believe in their powers.  If there's an astrological reason for Bel'uah wanting Babaa dead by midnight tomorrow, I want to know what it is."  He raised his eyebrows, daring me to ask another question.

I blinked.  "Oh."

Kenji rolled his eyes slightly and went back to the book.

Several minutes later (it felt more like hours), Kenji slammed the book shut with a triumphant smile, but his eyes were grim.  "I know what Bel'uah is up to.  She's trying to pull a fast one on the witches."

I looked up from the piece of lint I was picking at.  "Oh?"

"Look."  Kenji indicated the chart.  "The positions of these stars reduce – oh, forget it, it won't mean a thing to you.  Basically, Bethany wants Babaa dead by the witching hour on the Night of the Dead, if that makes any sense.  It has to do with the stars being in positions that seriously reduce the life force of nearly everything and everyone.  Bethany and her army of vampires, zombies, Reapers, whatever, will have a huge advantage because they don't depend on the life force stars – and if Babaa is dead, and the witches are reduced in strength, they won't stand a chance."  He paused, looking up at me.  "Hidaka-san, Bel'uah is planning to attack Tokyo _en masse_.  She's going to stage a one-night takeover!"

I groaned.  "Great, so all of Tokyo_ is_ on the line."

Kenji grinned at me.  "It's not all on your shoulders, Hidaka-san, and no matter what it may look like to you, this is not terribly unusual.  Power struggles of this sort break out every few years."

"What usually happens?" I asked.

"Someone dies, somebody else replaces them, and everything goes back to the way it was."

"… oh."

Kenji didn't seem bothered.  "Now that we know what Bel'uah is up to, we can at least try to stop her, but first we have to save your friends.  We've laid out three options when it comes to Kudou-san and Tsukiyono-san's lives.  But what about a fourth option?"

I raised my eyebrows.  "A fourth option?"

Kenji half-smiled.  "Why don't we just take them away from Fujimiya-san?"

I stared at Kenji for a long moment.  "Why the hell didn't I think of that?"

Kenji laughed.

*   *   *

                Kenji's chosen mode of transportation was a motorcycle with a smaller engine than my own; it barely had more power than Omi's moped, actually.  His choice of weapon, on the other hand, was a handsome Magnum .45, which certainly looked like it could do more damage than my Smith & Wesson.  He loaded it with silver bullets and took two extra clips along.

                "Have you gotten any use out of the Beretta?" Kenji wanted to know.

                I shook my head.  "No, although I wanted to use it to blow Bethany's head off her shoulders."  That got a laugh out of Kenji.

                As we slowly made our way though late evening traffic in Tokyo, I reviewed our extremely flexible plan of attack on the _Koneko__ no Sumu Ie_.  I was going to call ahead from a pay phone when we were a few blocks from the store and find out where Youji and Omi were, their conditions, and what Aya was doing.  Currently the plan was that I distract Aya while Kenji snuck both Youji and Omi out of the house and into Youji's car, which they would use as the getaway vehicle.  Once they were safe, I was supposed to figure out how to get myself away from Aya and back into contact with Kenji.

                Of course, that plan assumed everything went the way things were supposed to go.  If hell broke loose, the plan went out the window and we would put to use, in Kenji's words, an 'on-the-go' strategy.

                At least I was pretty good at thinking on my feet.  Provided, of course, that I didn't let my emotions get the better of me.

                "Let's stop here," I called about three blocks from Weiss headquarters.  Kenji nodded and pulled over; I shuffled to the nearest pay phone and shoved ¥10 into the slot, nervously awaiting the reply at the other end.

                The phone rang once, twice.  Then, "_Moshi-moshi__.__  Koneko no Sumu Ie desu._  _Ore__ wa Fujimiya Aya desu.  __Nan__ desu ka?_"

                I took a deep breath. _Showtime._ "Aya, it's Ken."

                Aya's voice tightened immediately.  "Where are you?"

                I couldn't keep the edge out of my voice.  "I've been looking for information, if it's any of your business.  I want to talk to Youji."

                Aya's voice was cold, dead, and sharp.  He sounded like a knife, if a knife could have talked.  "He's upstairs."

                "Omi?"

                "He's with Kudou."

                I clenched my teeth at his obstinance.  "Is Youji _alive_?"

                "Yes."

                "Prove it to me."

                There was a pause.  "I've healed him in part.  He's sleeping."

                "Then wake him up," I snapped.  "I won't do anything for Bethany until I know he's alive."

                "Then take my word for it."

                I took a quick breath. "I wouldn't trust you any further than I could throw you, Fujimiya," I snarled.

                There was another short silence.  I wished I could see Aya's face.  Then Aya said, "Hold on."  _Click._

                I waited to hear a dial tone, but there was nothing.  I swallowed.  What was going on …?

                _Click.  _"Ken-kun!"

                I sighed with relief.  "Omi!  Are you okay?"

                Omi's voice was filled with tension.  "I'm fine, Ken-kun.  Youji-kun is doing a lot better, too – Aya kept his promise and healed him."

                I heaved another relieved sigh.  "I thought Aya was jerking my chain.  So he's alive?"

                "He's sleeping.  He's too pale, Ken-kun."

                "Blood loss," I said coldly.  "Bastard.  How are you doing?"

                "I'm not hurt—"

                "You holding up okay?" I interrupted.

                There was a breath; Omi was sighing, too.  "No, Ken-kun, I'm about to have a nervous breakdown," he said in a broken voice that I'd never heard from the 17-year-old before.  "This is – this—"

                "—is hell," I finished for him.  "Hang tight.  You guys in the upstairs storage room?"

                "Yes," Omi answered cautiously.  "What are you doing?"

                I selected my words carefully lest Aya was listening.  "I'm … I'm trying to protect you and Youji."

                "Be careful, Ken-kun!" Omi's voice cracked on my name, and I winced.  _I'll kill Bel'uah.  I'll kill her seven times over if her screwing around messes up Omi!_

                "I will," I said quietly.  "_Ganbatte_, Omi."

                "_Ganbatte__ ne,_" Omi returned mechanically.  _Click._

I was about to hang up when suddenly I heard Aya's voice.  "Bethany-sama wanted me to remind you that you only have 28 hours to find Kaori Yamamoto," he said.

I scowled.  "Tell Bethany-sama that I know, and she can shove it.  The right person will be dead by midnight tomorrow."

"Don't play games, Hidaka," Aya said coldly.  _Click._

Dial tone.

I glared at the phone and slammed it into the hook before I looked up at Kenji, who cocked his head.  "He suspects something," I said, "but Youji and Omi are safe for the moment."

"Then let's hurry," Kenji suggested, revving his engine.

I nodded nervously.  "Let's."

*   *   *

                "I need your help again."

                Aya glared at me from where he sat perched on the stool in the back storage room of the shop.  I stood in the doorway, trying my best to look as if I were pissed off and not scared out of my wits.  "This is an odd turnaround," he observed.

                _That's __Bethany__ talking._  I took a deep breath and glared at him.  "Look; I'm not going to lie to you about this.  I hate you.  I want to kill your precious Bethany-sama.  But I care more about Youji and Omi than about you or your stupid mistress.  I'll kill Kaori Yamamoto if that's what it takes.  It's not like I give a damn about her, anyway."

                Aya's glare was no more cold than usual.  "So what do you need me for?"

                "The witches are extremely close-mouthed about Kaori's location.  I need you to find her."

                "I don't know if I can do that."

                "If you can't, Bethany won't get her kill," I returned quickly.

                Aya looked at me.

                The silence stretched and my discomfort grew.  "At least point me in the right direction – find someone who can find Kaori!  I don't know half the things you do about the Underground!  Surely you have connections!  Use them!"

                Aya looked down and muttered.

                "What? I can't hear you," I demanded.

                Aya glanced up at me and gave me a contemplating look.  "I—"

                _Thump._

                I froze.  Aya froze.

                The sound had come from upstairs.

                Before I could even move Aya had leapt to his feet, violet eyes turning to stone.  "_Kisama__!_  What is this!?"

                I gathered my wits and shattered nerves and straightened to my full height.  "Tell Bel'uah she can go to hell, Fujimiya.  I'm not killing anyone for that creature."

                Aya snarled at me – he literally bared his teeth and growled – and turned towards the stairs.

                All I could think of was Youji laying there on the table, bleeding and dying, Aya's fangs in his neck.  All I could see was Omi's huge eyes full of fear and confusion and terror as they fell on that horrible scene.

All I could imagine was Omi and Youji dead on the floor, killed by Aya's unmerciful hands.

Mechanically, I reached for my gun, pulled it out of the inside breast pocket of my jacket, and aimed at Aya's back.

                Guns don't actually go _bang._ That's something the American movies made up.  Even the biggest handguns tend to go _pop_.

My gun went _pop_ twice, and two holes appeared between Aya's shoulder blades.  Blood spattered on the wall behind him.  He fell to his knees; he collapsed face-first on the ground.

                Blood pooled on the ground beneath him.

                His chest neither rose nor fell.

                I lowered the gun.

                Kenji appeared on the stairs, gun out and trained on Aya.  "_Nande__ – Kore wa – _Oh shit," he said with passion, transitioning from Japanese to English with ease.  I wasn't quite sure why I noticed that.

                Omi was the next to appear.  "Ken-kun!  Ken –" he stopped, eyes wide, staring at Aya's body.  "What …?"

                "He was going to kill you," I said.  My voice was broken and tired and I didn't know why.  I couldn't feel anything.

                Omi said nothing.  He looked up at me with eyes full of hatred, sadness, and fear.

                And suddenly emotion broke in on my bubble of emptiness like a tsunami, and with a ragged cry I dropped the offending weapon in my hands and collapsed, clutching my knees.  "Oh gods! … oh gods, I killed him!"

                "Shit," Kenji said the English swear word again.  "Shit …" I heard him clamber down the stairs.  "Come on, Tsukiyono-san.  We have to leave.  Hidaka-san, get up!  We have to leave."

                "I … I want to die," I said quietly.

                "_Urusai__ yo!_  Don't you dare talk like that!  Help me get Kudou-san out of here!"

                I made no reply, a painful hole of guilt swallowing my sudden upwelling of panic and turning my surge of horror into a pit of self-loathing.  I stared straight ahead.  _I did it again.  I killed a friend.  I did it again._

_                Koko datte Jigoku da yo.  Hell can't be any worse than this._

                _CRACK!_

                The blow to my jaw knocked me over and I fell onto my side, startled out of my self-hatred.  I grasped my cheek with one hand, feeling the swelling.  There was blood in my mouth. "What the –"

                Kenji stood over me, holding a shoe in his hand.  His face was twisted with anger.  "You want to kill us all!?" he demanded.

                I stared at him.  "What?"

                "Don't you think Bethany knows what just happened!?  Don't you think she knows!?  She won't let us leave here alive, Hidaka!" he snapped.  I realized he was afraid; the fear was in his eyes.  "She knows we're against her now.  There's no hope for us.  If you want to die, go ahead, but I won't let you sacrifice Tsukiyono-san, or Kudou-san, or me!  I want to live!"  Now there was pain in his eyes, too.  "We have to do horrible things sometimes, Ken.  But giving up … giving up isn't the right way to escape those things.  We still have people to protect."

                I swallowed hard, keeping my eyes averted from Aya's body as I swayed to my feet.  "All right.  All right," I heard myself saying.  "I'll go.  Let's go."

                Kenji smiled wanly.  "Kudou-san is upstairs.  Tsukiyono-san is starting the car."

                I retreated back to a corner of my mind and let my body do the work of lifting Youji's battered frame off of the bed and carrying him gingerly down the stairs.  I refused to see Aya laying on the ground; my body averted my eyes for me.  I carefully placed Youji in the back seat of his car and sat next to him so his head was in my lap. I could feel his breath gentle against my hand.  Kenji sat in the front passenger seat.  His breathing was heavy with exertion.  Omi gunned the car; I could hear his breathing, ragged and sobbing.  I could hear my own breathing pounding in my ears, fast but even.

                Chest rise; chest fall.  Youji's chest rose and fell.  That's what a normal human's chest does when that human breathes.

                Aya would never breathe again.

                I sat in the back of Youji's car and cried silently, tears falling in time with my chest.

*   *   *

Author's Notes:

                1) Find a nice, big, private room.

                2) Scream.

                3) Scream again.

                4) NOW you can send me your review.  ^^x

I know all of Aya's fans are going to come find me and kill me now.  I can fully understand the sentiment.  However, I ask that you PLEASE bear with me and finish reading _Dream of Crimson_.  There's more to Aya's story than meets the eye.

I know it's been a long time since I updated, and I apologize.  My life went crazy with the end of school, as I had APs, graduation, prom, a job to arrange, and swim team, besides regular life.  And then Fanfiction.net went on the fritz.  Gotta love servers.  Anyway, I'm back now, and it'll probably be only three more parts before this epic is finally finished!

Thank you everyone for your reviews.  I love them, and they helped me stick with writing this fanfiction even when I had to rewrite this section three times to get it right.  By the way, if you want translations to the Japanese, feel free to e-mail me and ask.  My e-mail is chan_minako@hotmail.com .

Just for you, Silver Angel, I have arranged for additional fun with the sinister werewolf bite Ken received.  If I don't find a way to stuff it into this story, it will appear in the possible sequel.

Thanks again!  And – as always – PLEASE review!  I'll love you forever!  ^~x

~~Vikki

PS – guess what, this story is now 63 pages long in 9-point font and single-spaced! O.ox Scary, no?  I think it officially qualifies as novel length now …


	11. Part Eleven

_Dream of Crimson – Part XI_

_By Vikki_

Disclaimer:  I don't own it, Takehito Koyasu does, Lucky Boy.

Flame Policy:  I'll drop-kick you to … oh, I dunno.  I would say China, but they've got a lot of great anime stuff there.  How about … Timbuctu? ^^x

*   *   *

                The ride was silent for a long time; the only sounds were the car's engine and Omi's hitched breathing.  I wallowed in self-hate for a while, and then I tried to decide how much Omi hated me, and then I wondered how much Youji would hate me when he woke up.  And then I wondered if I would get kicked out of Weiss, and if I was kicked out, what would I do?  Could I stand myself long enough to not commit suicide before I reached that point?  Why hadn't I just injured him?  Why hadn't I just tried to delay Aya long enough to save Youji and Omi?

                It was Omi who broke the silence.  "K-Ken-kun, I … I—"

                "Omi, I'm sorry," I blurted.

                Omi was silent.

                "I … I thought … I thought Aya was going to kill you," I continued awkwardly.  "But I wish … I could have – no, I _should _have—"

                But Omi interrupted me.  "No, Ken-kun … I – I'm not mad at you.  I … I don't think you could have done anything else."  His voice broke as he added, "I-I-I don't even know that he's dead."

                I saw my gun jumping in my hand in my mind's eye, Aya falling forward wordlessly.  "N-no, Omi, I think I killed him," I said thickly.

                Omi spoke so quietly I almost didn't hear him.  "I don't think he'd die so easily."

                I disagreed (even if he was a psi-vampire, I _had_ used silver bullets), but I said nothing.

                Kenji added nothing to the conversation, but he kept rechecking his Magnum every few minutes and looking around, a worry line between his eyebrows.

                We all stewed in our separate, unhappy thoughts for while.  I sighed at Youji's pale, clammy features and looked out the window, observing dismally that we were passing a graveyard just as Omi asked, "So, um, where are we going?"

                Kenji twisted in his seat to look at me, and I began to shrug indifferently when I felt it – a non-human presence.  I stiffened instinctively.  Kenji gave me a confused look.  "What—" Then his eyes widened.  "Oh."

                It was Omi's turn to be confused.  "Is something wrong?"

                "Bethany's found us," Kenji said flatly.

                "She's the one who was controlling Aya," I explained to Omi quickly before I scowled at Kenji.  "It's not her, it's something else—"

                "And you can be sure she's the one that sent it," Kenji snapped.  He glared at me.  "Ken, I don't blame you for what you did, but Bel'uah has us pegged now! We're marked for death!"

                "What do I do?" Omi asked in desperate tones.

                "You don't have to make it sound hopeless," I barked at Kenji, angry at him for frightening Omi.  "Bel'uah's powerful, but she's not omnipotent!"

                "Cut and dried, I think our chances are slim to none, and there's no reason to lie to ourselves about it," Kenji said flatly.

                "Then I guess you think we ought to just give ourselves up?" I asked hotly.

                "_Guys!__  What do I do!?_" Omi cried.

                Kenji looked taken aback – a look that mirrored my own – then shook his head slightly, looking at me.  "_Gomen__, Ken-san_," he said quietly.  "This is silly."

                "I'm sorry, too," I said, looking down.  _Why do I always hurt my friends?  Aya … no!  I can't do this right now!  If I fail Omi and Youji, I'll never be able to forgive myself!_

                Omi was talking, pleading, "That's nice, but—"

                Kenji interrupted him.  "I don't know yet, Tsukiyono-san."  He looked at me with a question in his eyes and I shook my head, trying to focus.  However, before any bright ideas came to me Kenji suddenly exclaimed, "Turn here!  Turn left, Tsukiyono-san!"

                The non-human presence was stronger in that direction, and I began to protest, "Kenji, I—"

                But Omi visibly startled and swerved left, hurtling onto a one-lane road –

                Right in the middle of the graveyard.

                "Pick someplace to stop.  It doesn't matter where," Kenji said, looking at me worriedly.  He seemed as if he were steeling himself for something.  Then, suddenly, he looked out over the field of gravestones and his entire demeanor changed – he was calm, confident, and my sense of his supernatural power increased markedly.

                "This is creepy," Omi confided in a shaky voice as he pulled over onto the side of the road and turned off the engine.  "Why are we stopping here?  What's coming?"

                "We don't know what's coming, Omi," I said, watching Kenji as he wordlessly climbed out of the car and began walking into the middle of the tombstone-strewn field.  "But I think I know why Kenji stopped here … get out your silver shuriken, and don't worry if you see anything come out of the ground," I suggested as I laid Youji's head back on the backseat and climbed out of the car, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

                "Out of the …" Omi echoed, not making an effort to keep his voice from trembling at all.  "What's going on, Ken-kun!?"

                "Kenji Yamamoto is a—" I started.

                Before I finished my sentence, though, my train of thought was completely shattered by a wave of supernatural power washing over us.  My hair stood on end; it was as if I was awash in static electricity.  Even Omi felt it; he gasped aloud and looked around confusedly.

                My sixth sense told me that the source was unmistakably Kenji.  I looked up at him; he was standing stiffly, staring off in the direction of the grove of trees where the non-human presence seemed to be.

                The ground shook.  It wasn't a very violent shaking; in fact, it was gentle (if the ground shaking could ever be considered gentle).  It felt like a very mild earthquake.  But it was enough to make me grab the edge of Youji's car for balance.  Omi stumbled and I instinctively grabbed him.

                That was when the bodies started rising out of the ground.

                At first it was like a bad horror flick, with bodies rising as if lifted on strings out of the ground, the earth pouring and sifting about them like ocean waves.  Each body that rose from each grave left only a depression in the earth behind.  They were in varying states of decay; as they rose to their feet they looked lifeless and broken – they looked like marionettes.  A mechanical and detached part of me observed that there were about fifty animated bodies standing before their graves before the sickened and horrified part of me supplied the American name for the creatures – _zombies_.  I suppressed the urge to hurl.

                But the moment they started walking, the similarities to the movies ended.  They worked their way towards Kenji, but they didn't stumble about stiffly, moaning; rather, they moved as any living human might have.  A zombie whose features were recognizable as a teenager's shuffled along with his hands in the remains of his pockets, slouching; a figure that looked as if he had died in his forties moved forward with the purpose of a businessman.  A decrepit zombie in a rotting dress walked slowly as an old woman might have.  The ones who still had eyes maneuvered around gravestones and looked at each other.

                Omi make a funny strangled noise and sank to his knees.

                Before I could move to do anything for him, though, seven figures burst from the trees.  One of them was flying; four were moving inhumanly fast and two were loping on all fours.  I felt a tremor go through me as my sixth sense seemed to overload, trying to warn me about the seven figures and the Necormancer's released supernatural powers.  (Strangely, the zombies didn't trigger my sense at all.)  "Omi!  Omi, get up, they're coming!"  I grasped his arm and hauled him up; he was pale and sweating.  "You going to be okay?"

                "I-I'll be fine," Omi stammered.  He reached into his jacket and produced four shuriken for each hand.  His brow knitted with determination despite his pallor.  "I can do this!"  He sounded as if he were trying to convince himself.

                I put what I hoped was an encouraging hand on Omi's shoulder and reached into the car for the Beretta before running towards Kenji, his zombie army, and the approaching creatures.

                The Necromancer was speaking, pointing at the rapidly approaching figures.  In the dark I could barely see them; I couldn't hear Kenji properly at first, but as I drew closer, I picked up his speech. "—Reaper, and kill the vampires," he was saying.

                A sound rose from the zombies – some were speaking, saying, "Yes, sir!" "Of course, Kenji-sama!" "Whatever you say!" but others were opening their mouths and making unintelligible noises, or not making any noise at all.  It took me a moment to realize that they too would have responded in the affirmative, but they no longer had the tongue or vocal cords to do it.  I cringed, but I couldn't think about that.  I looked up to see that the creatures had arrived.

                The flying figure was black and insubstantial; it appeared to have a hood and cloak at times, but even that general impression wavered in and out of existence.  The only part that didn't seem to fade and swell was the weapon in its 'hands' – a long-handled scythe.  Fear froze me to the spot when I looked at the creature; I tore my eyes away to examine the other creatures, which looked like four vampires and two werewolves.  The fear attached to seeing them was so much more natural that it was almost a relief.

                The floating creature, which I decided must have been one of the Reapers Kenji had mentioned, was making horrendous noises that chilled me to the bone, but if Kenji heard them, he gave no sign.  Instead, he watched the vampires silently.  The vampires seemed to be in total control of the werewolves, who stood behind them.  They had stopped in front of Kenji and his army of zombies.

                One of the vampires, a female, sauntered the eight or nine feet between Kenji and herself to tower over him.  "Do you really think that a petty animation trick is going to stop us from tearing you limb from limb?"  She spat to the side.  "Fool!  Bethany-sama has ordered you dead, and dead you shall be!"

                _Are all blood vampires arrogant?_ I wondered insanely.  The Reaper shrieked again and I clapped my hands to my ears.

                Kenji was speaking; I pulled my hands away from my ears for a moment to listen.  "—hate to be you right now," he was saying calmly.

                The vampire snarled and clamped a hand around the Necromancer's throat.  "You pathetic little - look at me-!"

                The zombies cried out as one entity and surged forward.

                Chaos promptly broke out.  The vampires shouted something and they and the werewolves dove into the fray.  The Reaper shrieked one last time before I lost track of it as I aimed the Beretta.

                The shotgun had horrendous recoil, but the power of each shot more than made up for it.  I blew the arm off of one vampire, reloaded, and took the head off a werewolf before one of the vampires jumped high over the crowd of zombies towards me, growling unintelligibly.  I threw myself to the side, reaching for my .44, but I was too slow – the vampire knocked me to the ground with a foot to my stomach.  My midsection exploded with pain.  _Can't let the internal stitches break_, I thought insanely as the vampire pinned me, grasping my head in his hands and forcing me to look into his black eyes.

                That strange floating sensation Stacey had triggered in me began, and I could hear the internal voice of the vampire, speaking soothingly.  _Dream, boy; dream and live a better life than this one …_

                I screamed aloud to block out the voice, squeezed my eyes shut, and fired my Smith & Wesson into his chest three times.  I was very lucky that the vampire had so counted on me falling under his spell that he hadn't pinned my arms to my sides.  His hands released my head and I felt blood dripping onto my chest and I opened one eye cautiously to see the vampire staring at his midsection in shock.

                I wriggled out from underneath him and shot him twice in the head.  Score two for me, none for the baddies.

                A cry of desperation suddenly brought me crashing down as I realized that I had no idea how Omi was faring.  I jumped to my feet, regretted it when my abused midsection protested, and screamed over the chaos, "_Omi!_"

                If he heard me, he didn't answer.  The graveyard was a scene of horror; the remaining vampires and werewolf tore at the zombies and the zombies fought back like a human mob possessed.  I didn't see the Reaper right away; I spun around, looking for the apparition, when suddenly I completely lost interest in the creature as I spotted Omi.

                Omi was pinned by the vampire whose arm I had blown off.  He was struggling violently, slashing at the creature with a broken shuriken, his eyes squeezed shut.  The vampire was grappling for Omi's wrists with his one remaining hand.

                I raised my gun, about to shoot – when I realized that if I missed, I'd kill Omi!  Or the bullet might even go all the way through the vampire and hit Omi as well!  My mind raced before I just decided to rush the vampire.  I sprinted forward.

                But I was beaten to my target.

                Suddenly a zombie shot out of the crowds of dead people, running like a true sprinter.  He was, for lack of a better way to put it, 'freshly dead'; he hadn't rotted visibly at all.  The only sign that he couldn't possibly be alive was the sizable chunk of his chest missing.  He'd clearly been shot to death.

                This didn't seem to deter the zombie, though, who slammed full-throttle into the vampire with his shoulder.  The vampire was flung several feet away.  Omi scrambled to his feet and backed off, staring at the vampire, visibly afraid.

                The vampire got to his feet almost immediately, his eyes focused on the zombie, but the zombie didn't seem to notice.  "Run!" it was exclaiming to Omi in a tenor voice.  "I'll protect you!  Kenji-sama said to protect you!"

                Omi just stared at the zombie, blue eyes wide and confused.

                The zombie shrugged and rushed at the vampire again.  The vampire left off glaring to charge as well.  Zombie and vampire clashed and blood flew as the zombie was torn apart even as he throttled the vampire.  I winced in sympathy.

                _He's already dead, you idiot!  Shoot the vampire while you've got the chance!  Duh._  I snorted at myself and emptied the remainder of my clip into the vampire's head.  Face ruined, it slumped forward on top of the mangled zombie.

                And the zombie smiled.  "I protected … going home now …" his dark eyes closed, and the life went out of his reanimated body.

                In fact, the life was going out of all the zombies.  One by one, they slumped to the ground in natural or unnatural positions; whatever force Kenji had projected to bring them to life was failing.

                I looked at Omi.  He was on the ground on his knees, retching.  _Well, if this had been two weeks ago, I would have been doing the same thing_, I thought sympathetically.  I was queasy as it was, but I was more worried.  "Kenji!" I shouted.  "Kenji!"

                I received no answer except for a horrendous shriek from the unseen Reaper and the sudden collapse of the remaining zombies.

                Automatically I screeched along with the Reaper and barely resisted putting my hands over my ears, turning to look for the spirit.  The graveyard had gone eerily quiet.  The zombies must have killed the two remaining vampires and the one werewolf.

                The Reaper shrieked again, and I groaned in mental agony.  Each cry was like a spike of ice stabbing into my heart and a nail being driven into my head.  Shaking my head hard, fighting the urge to smack my head against a gravestone, I forced myself to look up, searching for the Reaper.  That thing wasn't going to go away until someone killed it, and if no one else was going to … well, I would do the dirty work.  I closed my eyes, trembling with the sensation of vulnerability, and tried to get my sixth sense to lead me to the evil spirit.

                Kenji screamed.

                The sound came from somewhere behind me, and I jumped about five feet in the air and yelped.  Catching my breath, I sprinted towards the sound.

                In the shadows of a lone tree in the field, Kenji was clutching his head, in the fetal position and on his knees.  Terror flooded me as I glanced at the creature over him – the Reaper, its scythe held high and its wavering 'hood' fallen back to reveal the most horrible and hideous thing I'd ever seen.  It was indescribable; it was the stuff of nightmares.  I echoed Kenji's scream and my gun dropped from my nerveless fingers.

                The thing glanced at me – I felt its cold, dead eyes on me, and I realized that I was on my knees too, unable to look away.  It cackled madly, a sound almost as frightening as its shriek, and lowered the scythe from over Kenji's head, flying towards me at an alarming rate, leveling its blade at my neck.

                My shotgun saved my life in a rather unexpected fashion at that moment.  It hit me in the head so hard that I toppled over.  The scythe zoomed over my head, and the Reaper let out a disappointed squeal.

                Hyperventilating, I clawed my fingers in the dirt and stared wide-eyed at the sky.  "Wh-wh-wh-wh—" I stuttered, unable to get a single word out.

                I more felt than heard the two shotgun shots going off, their bass rumble resonating with something in my chest.  On some level the naturally produced noises helped me calm down, and I was able to focus my eyes again to see Omi propped against the ground, jerking off shots with his eyes squeezed shut.  The shotgun needed reloading, though, so after the first two shots it only _click_ed.  I put my hand on Omi's arm and he 'fired' one more time before taking a shaky breath that emulated my own.

                "Where is it?  Wh-where is it?" I asked haltingly as soon as I had the nerves and breath to ask.

                Omi was quivering.  "I-I-I didn't really see it directly.  It was sort of pulling its hood up and then it flew away, whatever it was – are you okay- ?"

                "N-no, I'm not," I answered flatly.  I nearly fell over twice as I struggled to my feet.  My legs had turned to pudding.  "_Kenji-san, daijoubu?_"  I called over my shoulder.

                Kenji gave no reply.

                It took Omi and me only a minute or two to determine he had fainted from sheer exhaustion.

                Kenji was light, almost as light as Omi, but it was no easy task carrying him to the car and propping him up against the door in the backseat next to Youji, tired as we were.  Omi practically had to remind me how to walk again, and my hands trembled uncontrollably.  Omi was just lucky that he hadn't seen that horrible creature's face.

                Omi climbed into the driver's seat and I sat next to him, bringing my feet up to rest on the seat and bending forward to rest my forehead on my knees.  I could still sense something non-human, but I sensed nothing hostile; I guessed they were too far away for me to tell, which was just fine by me.

                We sat, silent, for a long moment.  I could hear Omi's heavy, shuddering breaths and my own short, shallow ones.

                "Why is this happening to us?" Omi's voice cracked as he asked the question.  I turned my head to the side to see him staring at nothing, eyes unfocused, brow furrowed, and jaw clenched.  He was holding back tears.  "Aya-kun … Youji-kun … Yamamoto-san, even!  Ken-kun, what if we die?  What if we all die?"

                "We're not going to die," I said as calmly as I could manage.  My voice trembled anyway.  "We're going to do our job.  We're going to kill Bethany.  She's behind all of this.  We'll kill her and end this insanity."  My voice gained strength and intensity as I spoke, anger overtaking my fear.

                Omi drew a shaky breath and shut his eyes, nodding.  "Okay.  I'm going to be okay," he answered my unasked question.  "What … what do we do next?"

                "I don't know yet," I shook my head slightly, laying my forehead against my knees again.  I felt like I was thinking through thick soup.  Everything was fuzzy … "We need to go where they can't get us until I can figure out how to get to Bethany," I said finally.

                "There's such a place?" Omi said with a hysterical edge to his voice.

                "I don't—" I began.

                _All I can tell you is a vampire fears nothing except God.  Remember that.  _That first conversation with Bethany, a lifetime ago, came to me in my quiet terror.

                Nothing except God.

                "Omi, there's a Catholic church two blocks from here," I said finally.  "Go there."

                "Why?" Omi asked.

                "Because vampires fear nothing except God."

                Omi stared at me for a moment, recognition dawning on his face.  "_Hai_, Ken-kun," he nodded, before turning the engine of Youji's abused car and driving away.

*   *   *

                The churches' heavy front door was locked, but Omi picked it easily ('that was a pathetic excuse for a lock,' he confided in me) and we carried first Youji, then Kenji into the large sanctuary, laying them on pews.  The sense of the inhuman never left.  Someone had to be following us, or something.  I kept the knowledge to myself.

                I looked up at the crucifix hanging over the chapel and sighed, two memories springing to mind – one filled with nostalgia for my Catholic family, who thought I was dead, and one filled with mixed fear, hatred, and compassion for the animal called Farfello.  He was Catholic, too.  Once.

                We had more in common than I had ever cared to think.

                "Ken-kun?"

                "Yes, Omi?" I looked down and behind me to see Omi, wringing his hands as he was apt to do.

                "I … Ken-kun, Aya-kun's _dead_," he said, as if it was a new revelation.

                "I know, I killed him," I said flatly.

                "Ken-kun …" Omi said again.  His eyes were filling with tears.  A stab of guilt hit me, but before I could even act on it, Omi was asking again, "What's happening to us?  Why?  I want it to stop, Ken-kun!  I want to … I want it to …"

                I sat down right there on the aisle floor, pulling Omi down with me, cradling his head.  He was like the little brother I nearly had, and right then Omi needed a big brother.  I think that he wanted Weiss to be a family – his pseudo-family – more than he ever let on.  "Go ahead and cry, Omi, or you'll go crazy," I said quietly, and Omi gripped my shirt and did just that, sobbing against my chest.  I hugged him and choked back my own tears and self-hatred and whispered, "It'll be all right, Omi.  Everything will be okay," even though obviously it would never be okay again.

*   *   *

                Omi fell asleep in my arms, and I let him stay there for a while, dozing a little, before I laid him on a pew and tried to sleep a little myself.  But the non-human thing at the edge of my consciousness wouldn't let me; I finally gave up and, staring up at the crucifix again, I prayed – well, more accurately, I accused God of being a mean, cruel bastard of whom I was a personal cat toy.  He didn't answer, and eventually I lost interest in mentally screaming at Him and stared out a window.

                I didn't know how much later Omi woke up again and silently began to take care of Youji.  I didn't care.  I was waiting … waiting for the inhuman thing to catch up with us.

                Then something unpleasant hit me.

                The feeling wasn't all that far away.

                I stiffened.  _No … it couldn't be …_

                Slowly I turned to where Omi was nursing Youji on a pew.  "O-Omi," I stammered.  "How did you say Aya healed Youji?"  Haltingly I walked over to Omi and stiffly sat to join him next to Youji's supine body.

                "I-I don't really know," Omi confessed quietly, bathing Youji's forehead with a towel and a basin of holy water (a desecration if I ever saw one, but water was water).  "He brought Youji upstairs and he wasn't bleeding anymore, and his condition has steadily improved over the 10 hours since, so … I guess I never thought to question him."  Omi looked up at me, his worry line descending on his brow.  "Youji's doing better!  Aya can't have done anything too horrible to him, could he …?"  He trailed off as I swallowed hard and lifted Youji's lips, pulling them away from his teeth.

                Revealing a pair of small, knifelike, super-sharp canines.

                "Oh," Omi whispered miserably.

                "Yeah …" I choked out.  "Nothing too horrible …"  I couldn't look anymore.  I jerked to my feet and walked away only to collapse on a bench a few meters away, holding my head in my hands, rocking back and forth slightly.  "Dear God!  Oh dear God …"

                This was all a dream.  I was going to wake up any minute now and find out that the last two weeks were just one long dream.  One long, torturous dream.  I would probably wake up in a Schwartz torture chamber to Schuldich's laughter, but anything – anything! – was preferable to the shambles my life had become.  It couldn't be real.

                "Ken-kun?"  Omi's voice was far away.  "Ken-kun …"

                "This can't really be happening," I mumbled into my pants leg.

                "But it is," Omi said gently.  "Be strong, Ken-kun."

                "Easy for you to say," I began, but I stopped mid-sentence.  That wasn't fair.  Omi had seen more gruesome things in the last 12 hours than I had seen in the entire first week of my 'initiation' as a Hunter.  He didn't even have any supernatural powers to back him up.  If anyone had the right to be catatonic or sitting in a psycho ward singing to himself, it was Omi Tsukiyono.  "I didn't mean that," I said quietly.

                Omi just nodded slowly, not even looking up from Youji.  "I know, Ken-kun."  He paused, and his voice wavered ever-so-slightly as he asked, "Wh-what kind of vampire is he?"

                "Psi," I answered brokenly.  "Youji's a psi-vampire." I took a long, ragged breath and sat up.  "I-I guess Youji had lost too much blood.  A-Aya must've … must've fed him some of his own blood to help him heal …" _Knowing full well it would turn him into a vampire, too!  Bastard!_

                Or maybe it had been the only way to save Youji – turning him into a vampire.  I shuddered at the thought.  _Killing Youji in order to save him.__  Killing …  I_ pushed back dark thoughts of suicide brought on by guilt and rose to my feet shakily.  "I-I'm going to go check on Kenji-san."

                When I came to the bench I had left the Necromancer on, I found him with his eyes open and staring at the ceiling.  One arm was flung over his chest; the other hung off the bench towards the floor.  I sat on the bench next to his head, folding my hands in my lap, and studied the wall unblinkingly.  We stayed that way for a while.

                "You okay?" I finally asked, looking down at him.

                "No," Kenji replied flatly in a tone that required silence.  There was a minute more of it before the Necromancer continued.  "I saw under the hood of a Grim Reaper and lived to tell about it.  I animated and commanded an army of the undead by sheer willpower for a quarter of an hour.  And if I'm lucky, I'll have full command of my legs in the next few hours or so."

                "That drained?" I inquired.

                "Ken-san, I can't even sit up," Kenji said incredulously.

                "Um, want me to help you?  I could get you a drink or something," I offered.

                Kenji shut his eyes and smiled a little.  "In a bit."

                There was an amiable silence before I broke it uneasily.  "Er … Youji's a psi-vampire.  I think Aya made him one."

                Kenji exhaled slowly, as if he'd been holding his breath in anticipation of this announcement.  "That's … I'm sorry, Ken-san."

                "Thanks.  I don't think it'll matter too much in the long run, though."

                Kenji opened his eyes again, focusing on me.  "You're beginning to sound as hopeless as I do," he said cynically.

                "I thought that would make you happy," I said in a snappy tone, hurt by his implications.

                "That's not my point," Kenji said gently.  I relaxed marginally, and he continued, "It's … unpleasant … to hear you so despairing.  In the short time I've known you, Ken-san, you haven't seemed like one to give up without a fight."

                I felt the weight of Kenji's eyes on me, and I sullenly matched his gaze, thinking about what he said.  He was right, of course.  No matter how much I blamed myself for Aya's death, no matter how much I hated myself, I couldn't bring myself to welcome death at my door.  _Especially when it means the deaths of Omi and Youji … sort of …  I_ winced inwardly and fought off a hysterical giggle.  It escaped my lips anyway.

                "Something funny?" A familiar voice croaked.

                I jerked my head up; Kenji's twisted his head around towards where Youji lay, and Omi breathed, "Youji-kun!" in a tearful voice.  Indeed, the playboy was awake.  I jumped to my feet and scrambled over to him.

                "Ow, feels like I've got the hangover from hell … someone wanna tell me where I am?"  Youji asked nonchalantly, his hands going to his head.  When I couldn't see his teeth, he looked exactly the same as he had … before, except paler.  "Some water would be nice … and get me the number of the truck that hit me while you're at it," he added.

                Omi's joy had faded to a worried look.  "Youji-kun, do you remember anything …?"

                Youji scowled at the 17-year-old.  "Of course I do, Omi!  I remember a lot of things.  Like that porno stash under your bed that you think you've hidden so well."  He smirked, and Omi blushed and got an irked look on his face for a moment before I broke in, asking, "Do you remember about the vampires?  Stacey?  Miki?"

                Youji rolled his eyes.  "Hell yes!  Well, you know, I remember before I was rolled under and all that … and I remember that punk kid from the weapons shop, Kenji, and I remember Yumi … that was some sweet flesh."  He grinned, and I flinched slightly at his canines.  "I remember blowing Miki's head off her shoulders – Omi, you were there …" He paused. "What I _don't_ remember is getting drunk and passing out in Omi's arms, but that's the usual practice with alcohol – the forgetting and all that …" he trailed off, looking between Omi and me as we shared a mortified look.  "What am I missing here?" he demanded, attempting to sit up.

                Omi automatically pushed him back.  "You really don't remember?"

                "What am I supposed to be remembering?" Youji asked, frowning quizzically.

                "He doesn't remember dying.  Most psi-vampires don't," Kenji said from his bench.  Youji craned his neck around to see the Necromancer, and Omi and I looked up at him.  Kenji had resumed staring at the ceiling.  "You feel normal, don't you, Kudou-san?"

                Youji raised his eyebrows.  "Other than the killer headache.  Why shouldn't I feel nor- ow!"  Youji's hand flew to his mouth.  His fingers came away bloody.  "What the …?" he traced his teeth, touching his canines gently with his thumb, and muttered, "My god … I … I _am_ a vampire, aren't I …?"

                "A psi-vampire," I corrected in a whisper.  "Y-you feed off emotions …"

                "And you can't remember how you got this way," Kenji interrupted me, throwing one arm over his eyes and drawing my attention away from the playboy.  "Ken-san, just let him be."

                I watched Youji for a long moment; his eyes went unfocused and he ran his fingers over his fangs repeatedly.  "What's he doing?" Omi asked before I could.

                "Thinking about it.  Give him time.  Give yourself time."  Kenji sighed.  "Shock.  Give it time to wear off …"

                "Maybe you should be sleeping," I suggested gently, scooting away from where Youji's green eyes stared at the ceiling.  Omi had shut his eyes and was breathing slowly, looking as if he was trying to process everything.

                Kenji smirked slightly, but said nothing.

                I think we all jumped when the banging on the door started.  Omi's head jerked up and he glanced around wildly.  "What's happening now?" he asked in a slightly pleading voice.

                "It's a super-human.  Probably a witch?" I asked, looking to Kenji for guidance.

Kenji shrugged slightly from his supine position.  "I don't know.  My power sense isn't good enough to sense anything outside the church less strong than an average vampire," he apologized.

Youji paled a bit more, if it was possible.  "It's probably a witch.  She's probably here to kill me before I'm a threat," he said in a voice so unlike Youji I wanted to curl up and cry.  If _Youji_ couldn't bounce back …

"_Hidaka-san!__  Atashi wa Ryuuki Yumi da!"_

"Yumi!" I gasped with relief.  I sprinted to the door as fast as my sore, exhausted legs would take me, fumbled with the lock, and let Yumi in quickly, locking the door behind her.

Yumi was sopping wet, and her black shirt hung piteously off her shoulders and her black skirt clung obscenely to her buttocks, and I discovered that no matter how sticky the predicament was, my male hormones could still kick into high mode at the sight of a pretty girl.  I blushed in embarrassment and fetched my jacket.  "Guess it's raining," I said lamely, handing the jacket to her without looking at her until she'd wrapped it around herself.

Yumi didn't even laugh at me, or even comment on what I said.  "Hidaka-san, I have both good news and bad news," she said flatly.  I watched as her eyes darted to the other people in the room, taking in the dismal Youji, the startled Omi, and the indifferent gaze of Kenji.  Kenji in particular seemed to interest her; she blinked once, frowning, before looking me squarely in the eye.  "What do you want first?"

"Uh, bad news," I said quickly, unable to bear the suspense.

"Bel'uah had identified you as her enemy, and she is in the process of attempting to kill you."

I quirked an eyebrow.  "I could have told you that," I answered calmly.

"Well, then.  That takes care of the bad news pretty painlessly, then."  She mustered a smile; it was clearly an effort.  "Now, here's the good news:

"I've found a weapon that can defeat Bethany.  All we have to do is retrieve it."

*   *   *

Author's Notes:  Another chapter that took me an excessively long time to write.  I'm sorry, but sometimes it's just really hard to get the creative juices flowing, you know?

Well, more nasty, shocking discoveries in this chapter.  ^^x  Please don't kill me, or you'll never find out how the story ends!

Well, guess what?  There's only two more parts to go, both of which are part of the Climax.  Yep.  We're there.  I can hardly believe it; this stupid piece of crap will finally be finished!  :D  Okay, well, it was a fun piece of crap to write, but really – it needs serious editing and tons of work.

I hope you don't mind the gratitious Omi moment.  I kept feeling like he wasn't responding with nearly enough emotion, especially because he's been through so much trauma so quickly and has no control over it.  I mean, Ken's pretty much at the center of this mess, and Ken knows it, so he doesn't really have time to get overly emotional about it – he's too busy reacting and trying to keep Youji and Omi out of it.  He's failed miserably, of course, but hey, that's Ken for you.  But Omi – he can't stop what's happening, and he's not expecting any of these things to happen.  I hope the crying was IC.  And NO, it's not Ken/Omi!  (UGH!) To me, their relationship is a big brother/little brother one.  It's just how I see it.

Well … stay tuned … Ken gets a Demonsbane Sword, Pierre shows up, and Bethany makes a grand appearance!

~~Vikki


	12. Part Twelve

_Dream of Crimson – Part XII_

_By Vikki_

Disclaimer: I write better stories than Koyasu, but he still owns them! Boo!

Flame Policy: If you haven't flamed me by now, then you're not going to flame me at all, are you? ^^x

Pre-Author's Notes:  I updated this section b/c Silver Angel pointed out that it moved too fast and that the part with Aya in it was … awkward and rushed.  It's (hopefully) fixed now … enjoy!

* * *

                "The _Gladius__ Deum_," Yumi said quietly, "Is a sword at the _Kami__ no Kaze_ shrine to the northwest, in the mountains.  It is a demonsbane artifact."

                I had estimated it was about dawn now, but the dreary grayness of the sky, pouring its tears, betrayed nothing.  (Nice bit of poetry there, I should try publishing it.)  Yumi was sitting at a pew next to Kenji, allowing the Necromancer to listen to her discourse as she explained to me the weapon to be used against Bel'uah.  Kenji watched dispassionately from his supine position.  Youji and Omi, not far away, were silent as she spoke.  She had Weiss' rapt attention.

                Yumi glanced frequently at Kenji as she continued, "This may seem to be great lengths to you, but we have … we have reason to believe that Bel'uah is a demon, and not a weak one at that.  The only weapons we have against such an opponent are banishment or demonsbane artifacts."

                Kenji's teeth clenched.  "Oh, so Babaa finally swallowed her pride, did she?" he snapped.

                I blinked, taken aback.  Yumi looked distressed and uncomprehending.  "Kaori spoke of this only this afternoon!  We attempted a banishment, but—"

                "Waste of time!" if Kenji could have moved, I was sure he would have been practically strangling the witch.  "I warned her, dammit!"

                Yumi's features sharpened slightly, comprehension dawning.  "You're _the_ Kenji Yamamoto, aren't you?  You're the Necromancer who—"

                "Stoppit!" I broke in.  "We're not talking about stupid feuds!  We're talking about Bel'uah!  Remember?  Bethany?  The one who's taking over Tokyo tonight?"

                Yumi's head snapped around.  "_Tonight?_" she gasped.

                "Haven't been checking your astrology charts lately, have you?" Kenji asked dryly.

                "What has that got anything to do with—"

                "_Urusai__!_"  I snapped, but the two superhumans were on a roll.

                "Night of the Dead.  Sound familiar to you?"

                A quiet gasp.  "Not even Bel'uah would be able to control the dead that night!  Kaori herself says that is so," Yumi said sharply.

                "_Kaori_," Kenji drawled, "has been wrong before, regardless of what she might tell you, you mindless sheep!"

                Yumi began to rise to her feet.  "How dare you—"

                I jumped to my feet.  "**_Yamero_****_!_**"  Finally, I got their attention; Kenji and Yumi both turned to stare at me.  "Dammit, we're on the same side!" I snarled, pleaded.  "We have, oh, 18 hours before Bethany does whatever the hell she's doing to Tokyo, and we're sitting her shouting at each other!?  I don't care how fucking stupid our allies are, the enemy is _Bel'uah_!"

                There was a dramatic pause after I finished my little speech, and I felt the heat of embarrassment flooding to my face when Youji said, with a voice that was a ghost of his former self, "You tell 'em, Kenken."

                My breath came out in a rush, almost a laugh, and I sat down again.  "Don't call me that," I said quietly.

                I heard Omi sort of chuckle, and practically felt Youji's smile.

                Kenji was trying to sit up, and I propped him up.  He nodded gratefully.  "Ken-san is right," he said apologetically.  He took a deep breath.  "The _Kami__ no Kaze_ shrine – that's a long drive away, isn't it?"

                Yumi accepted the truce gracefully.  "Almost seven hours, regretfully."  She looked at me expectantly.

                "What?" I asked, frowning slightly.  "My motorcycle's back at the apartment, don't look at me for transporta—" Comprehension dawned on me.  "Hey, that's Youji's car!  Ask him," I jerked a thumb at Youji.

                "Whatever," said the psi-vampire, tired voice speaking volumes.

                I flinched.

                "Well, that settles that," Yumi said in her authoritative voice, but the tiredness that I felt, that seemed pervasive of the entire atmosphere, hung over her as well.  It wasn't the sort of tiredness that was cured by sleep (but did I ever need it).  It was the same sort of tiredness I felt for weeks after killing Kase.  I was tired of life.

                There was only one thing left to do, and that was kill Bethany.  And maybe Persia, for making us chase the vampires in the first place.

                _Oh hell.  There's no way out of this maze; the only way to go is forward._

                "Okay, then," I said.  "Let's go."

*   *   *

                I stared morosely out the window of the passenger seat of Youji's car at the rolling foothills and drizzling rain.  Yumi drove; Kenji was staying with Youji and Omi at the church.  I had left the shotgun with Kenji and taken his Magnum with me (my Smith & Wesson was out of bullets and we didn't dare attempt to collect some more) after asking Kenji why he wanted to stay.  "If Bel'uah does … what she plans to do, I want to be here," Kenji had said slowly.

                "Why?" I asked.

                "I can help here.  I can't help at the shrine."

                "You … can't?" I inquired.

                "Necromancy fails on blessed grounds," Kenji replied gently.

                "Oh."  _Well, that explains everything._

                Miraculously, we escaped Tokyo without incident.  However, it was a long ride ahead, with nothing to do but wait …

                "Are you all right, Hidaka-san?" Yumi asked, bringing me back to the present.

                "Please.  'Ken' will do," I answered tiredly, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

                "Ken-san …"

                "I want to sleep, but I can't with a witch within sniffing distance," I snapped irritably.

                "Are we that bad?" Yumi's voice was laced with worn-out sarcasm.

                "Just tough on my 'sense."

                "I'm sorry."

                We drove on in silence.

                It was a long, long seven hours and twenty-three minutes.

*   *   *

                "Here it is," Yumi said as we climbed out of Youji's car.  "The _Kami__ no Kaze_ Shrine."

                I looked up the two-story-high set of stairs to a courtyard full of stone rubble and a temple in disrepair.  The sky was an angry gray, and occasional rain spatters promised a future downpour.  "It's here, then?"

                "No.  I drove you out of Tokyo seven-and-a-half hours to show you a ruined shrine," Yumi said flatly.  "Yes, it's here!"

                In retrospect, it was a stupid question, but I wasn't in the mood to apologize or make conversation.  I wanted to sleep so badly … _How long has it been now?  The last time I slept was … in the hospital.  It's only been about 30 hours._  I groaned inwardly and jumped the entire stairway.

                It had once been a Shinto shrine.  The gateway had rotted and collapsed.  The tiles were falling off the roof; the shouji were askew in their tracks and the wood rotting.

                "It's been abandoned for nearly 10 years," Yumi said, coming up behind me.  "The _Gladius__ Deum_ is in the inner sanctum.  No one has touched it for over 100 years."

                "What makes it a demonsbane?" I asked, looking over the rubble-strewn courtyard.  My tiredness was deserting me as my adrenaline began pumping.  Something was here; I didn't know what – yet.  I swallowed quietly and shifted on my feet, clicking the safety off of my gun.

                Yumi walked past me, her head tilted back to look off into the distance over the shrine.  She cocked it a little to the side.  "No one is sure.  The _Gladius__ Deum_ is among the most mysterious of the recorded demonsbane artifacts; the only thing for sure is that it has been used to banish demons in the past."  

                "'Banish'?  Not 'kill'?" I asked nervously.

                Yumi smiled slightly.  "Ken-san, your naïveté is showing," she said teasingly.  I opened my mouth to snap at her and she continued, "Demons can't be killed; at least, not so we can tell.  They can only be forced to return to whence they came – wherever that may be."  She rocked on her feet like a child.

                "How long does this banishment last?"  I approached her, looking beyond her to watch whatever she was staring at.  There was nothing to see but the blue sky of midafternoon.

                Yumi shrugged.  "Who knows?"

                That was the last straw.  Yumi was acting very strangely.  "Yumi-san."  I took her shoulder and turned her to face me; she looked down.  I tilted her chin up, forcing her to look into my eyes.  Tears glistened in hers.  "What happened?"

                Yumi was silent.  "Tell me!" I said sharply, scowling.  "Snap out of it!  You're acting dazed.  I don't know a thing about this demonsbane thing, and if you get yourself killed, that's it!"

                She held her peace for a moment longer before sighing and turning away.  "Ken-san … they're all dead."

                "Who?" I stared at her, bewildered.

                "My coven is gone.  Everyone … they all died.  The rest died last night."

                I chewed my lower lip.  "I'm sorry."

                "Don't be.  What could you have done?"  She laughed shortly.  "I never thought … I never thought we were up against a demon.  A real demon … a centennial event.  How could we be so unlucky?"  Her voice hitched on a sob.

                I had no answer for that; instead I put my hand on her shoulder.  "Do you need a shoulder to cry on?" I asked gently.

                Yumi didn't even reply.  She just spun around, grabbed my jacket and sobbed into my shirt.  "Why?  Why couldn't I stop her!?" she demanded.  "Why …?"

                I put my arms around her awkwardly and shut my eyes, bowing my head and trying to think of something to say.  Sadly, all I could think was _What about me?  Whose shoulder do _I_ get to cry on?_  And then the devastating thought:  _I should have stopped __Bethany__ before this._

It took a few minutes, but Yumi's sobs finally slowed and quieted.  She pulled away and wiped her eyes.  "Thag oo," she said stuffily before sniffling.  "Thank you."  She sighed.

                "Feel any better?" I asked.

                Yumi turned away from me to look up at the shrine again, and I looked towards the west.  "A little.  But honestly … the only thing I want now is to join everyone … wherever they are," she confessed.

I spun around to stare at her back.  "Don't you—"

"I can wait," Yumi said gently, cutting me off.  "I made a promise."  She drew a shuddering breath.  "We … we have to get back to business, or this will all have been in vain."  There was an expectant pause until Yumi continued, "The faster we obtain the sword, the sooner we can leave and the sooner we can get back to Tokyo.  We only have until midnight, correct?"

"That was the time Kaori was supposed to be dead," I shrugged, turning my mind back to business as well.  "I don't know if Bethany will act at exactly midnight."

"Well, if we're late, we'll have to hope Kaori can handle it.  It's a thankful thing that you did not kill her," Yumi said.

"_Could_ I have killed her?" I asked.  I could feel myself getting edgy again.  Something non-human was nearby.  A …

Yumi's gentle laugh interrupted my thoughts as we approached the shrine.  "Of course, Ken-san.  Kaori, after all, is only human."

"A human with a lot of magic to back her up," I observed darkly.

"_Hai__,_" murmured Yumi.  She shoved a broken shouji aside.  "Let's retrieve the demonsbane."

_Suffer!_

My sixth sense jumped from a slight worry to a full-blown emergency.  "Yumi-san!"  I shouted, throwing myself to the left and down; "Got it," Yumi shouted back, collapsing with her hands clasped over her head.  There was a crash to my right, and I rolled and came up with Kenji's gun trained in the direction of the crash.  On my left I could feel Yumi's supernatural powers warming up.

The figure that emerged from the dust of crushed stone was blonde, tall, and built like a rock.  He snarled at me.  "I have not finished with you!"

I pulled back my lips to sneer.  "Pierre."

"You know him?"  Yumi sounded surprised.

"No love lost," Pierre said without looking away.

"He's a werewolf," I remarked offhandedly.  "I think I killed his vampire girlfriend."

Pierre's features twisted angrily.  "She was my master!  I swore to her in death that you'd suffer!"

"Well, next time, maybe you should wait until your prey doesn't have the gun," I snapped.  "There's ¥500,000 on your head, by the way – it'll be my pleasure to kill you."  I fired.

But Pierre moved like the wind, and the silver bullet hit nothing.  "Is that why you've been seeking us out?  Destroying us?  For money!?" he demanded from somewhere over my head.  I looked up to see him leaping for the roof of the shrine.

I jumped to join him, my strength getting progressively easier to access.  "To stop you from killing the innocent," I hissed.  It seemed like an eternity ago that I had looked at the pictures of the college students and vowed to kill their murderers.

"What right do you have to determine such things?"  Pierre stood still before me and I trained my gun on him.

"None, so it's a good thing I don't make the decisions, _ne_?" I fired again.

The bullet grazed his neck; he dove forward, his hand covering the gun.  I fired again instinctively, backing up; the gun backfired.  I cried out in pain and leapt backwards, flailing when I jumped further than I meant to and hit the ground instead of more roof.  Pierre made a show of crushing Kenji's gun before jumping towards me.  I scrambled to my feet and bounded five meters away to safety.

"Ken-san!  Try and keep him one place long enough for me to magick him!" Yumi called.

"You think I have time to concentrate on that!?" I shouted back.  "He crushed Kenji's gun!  Dammit!"

Pierre was leaping towards me again, and I hopped away.  It was like a demented game of leapfrog, I thought bewilderedly.  All that was happening was I was getting tired; Pierre, who kept snarling words in some other language (French?), never seemed to miss a beat, even when I stumbled and had to roll to escape his crushing blow.  "Pierre, Stacey wanted you to kill Bethany!" I exclaimed as I came back to my feet.  "Why don't you do that first, then kill me?"

"Why bother?  You're here, I'm here.  Let's finish this."  Pierre bared his sharp fangs.

I bared my teeth too.  "If that's how you want it," I snarled.  "We can kill each other and leave Bethany alive and well, if you want!"

"There will only be one death here," Pierre snapped.

"Yours," I shot back.

"_Sanguine ex animum!_"  Yumi's spell swelled in my mind and came from my right to crash into Pierre's side as a ball of blood-red energy.  Pierre was thrown to the side, cringing in pain; I watched unsympathetically as Yumi approached.  "That'll put him down," she said.

"For a bit," I replied cynically, eyeing our surroundings.  I found what I was looking for; I hurried over and uprooted the stone bench, hefting it onto my shoulder, muttering, "_'Bit _of inhuman strength' my _ass_!"

"Ken-san!  You can lift that!?"  Yumi sounded distressed.

"What?  You bugged by the fact you were wrong about my strength?" I asked in the most superior tone I could manage while continuing to watch Pierre, who was curled into a pained ball around the wound in his side.

"No," Yumi murmured.  "No … Just … there's never been a Hunter before that could lift anything that heavy," she said in an awed voice.  "It's as if you're a … you're a—"

"_Omae__ o korosu_," groaned Pierre, getting to his feet.

"Later," I said sharply, grunting with effort as I heaved my burden at Pierre.

Pierre ducked; the bench sailed harmlessly over his head.  He picked up a piece of rubble considerably lighter than the bench and flung it at me one-handed; I jumped at Yumi and pulled her to the ground, out of harm's way.  I collapsed on my back, my still-bruised ribs protesting, Yumi on my chest; big fists closed on the lapels of my jacket and hauled me upwards as the witch slipped away and out of my vision.  Deadly blue eyes bored into my own chocolate ones.  I was suddenly and fiercely reminded of my last encounter with Pierre and I swung my fist, crashing it into his jaw; Pierre let go.  I fell on my butt and jerked to my feet, shuffling backwards quickly.

Pierre glared at me, his mouth slightly open as he ran his fingers over his lips.  They came away bloody.  "You're stronger than before," he observed quietly.

I put up my fists and took a fighting stance.

Pierre's features were grim as he, too, took a stance.

"Yumi-san, the sword," I said without looking away from Pierre.

"On it," she said.

Pierre glanced in her direction.  "No you don't—" he made to follow her.

"Eyes front!" I snapped, leaping forward, throwing a punch.  Pierre's head swiveled towards me again and he leaned back, out of the range of my fist; he blocked my next punch and took the third in the teeth.  He caught the fourth punch in his hand and shoved me away.  I skidded to a halt.  "So you didn't follow us all the way out here just to kill me?"

"I need the demonsbane!" Pierre snarled.

"You'll have to kill me first," I hissed.

His eyes darkened.  "Very well."  He charged.

Pierre not only moved faster than I did, he knew what he was doing.  I had been in my share of fistfights, and my ability as an assassin depended on my prowess with my fists.  However, I had no formal training.

Pierre was a trained kickboxer.

I ducked his first punch, blocked the second, and took the third in the teeth.  Grimacing over bleeding gums, I was almost taken by surprise by his foot flashing out towards my middle.  I dodged, was thrown off-balance, tripped over his foot and stumbled under a crushing blow to my back.  I staggered to an upright position just in time to block another punch, numbing my arm to my elbow.

I managed to get in a good blow to Pierre's stomach and shoulder, but I was simply outclassed.  It didn't help that I was still recovering from the last time Pierre and I had met, and it was clear the werewolf remembered perfectly well what he'd done.  One of his connecting blows hit me squarely in the torso.

The world went blindingly white as my stomach exploded in pain; I could have sworn I heard the stitches popping as I collapsed to my knees, wrapping my arms around myself.  I never saw the knee that slammed into my jaw, knocking my teeth together and throwing me on my back, or the foot that planted itself on my chest.  My abused ribs screeched in protest at the pressure; I gasped for breath and blinked rapidly, waiting for my vision to clear.

The first thing I saw (as the pressure on my lungs slowly increased) was Pierre leering down at me.  "Still suffering, yes?"

There was no answer for that.  I coughed and tasted blood in my mouth again, whether from my gums or my midsection I didn't know.  The werewolf was slowly putting more and more weight on my chest.  It was getting difficult to breathe.  My vision began to dim.

My thoughts were foggy, but I was able to grasp what Pierre was after.  He was going to break my breastbone, collapse my lungs, and leave me to asphyxiate here on the grounds of the _Kami__ no Kaze_ Shrine.

When he promised to make me suffer, he didn't lie.

The fear that gripped me as I thought this was enough to ignite my adrenaline with a passion.  I grit my teeth, my eyes wide, and flung my arms up to grab the werewolf's leg.

The audible _crack_ of Pierre's leg breaking was as much of a surprise to me as it was to him.

The werewolf made a choked noise that sounded suspiciously like a whining dog and collapsed forward.  I scrabbled against the ground and scooted out of his way as he hit the ground palms-first.  He flipped over onto his back and clutched at his leg, his eyes squeezed shut and his fangs digging into his lower lip.  I watched dispassionately, breathing deeply and coughing.  After a moment I spit blood and resisted the temptation to kick Pierre viciously.  It was cowardly; it felt … wrong to kill him when I had such a huge advantage.  

Or maybe I was just squeamish about killing him with my bare hands.

"All right.  All right, this is over," I said slowly when Pierre's eyes opened and focused hatefully on me.

But Pierre grunted and struggled to his feet.  "I can't accept that!"  I took a wary step back and twisted to the side when he suddenly lunged at me, teeth bared and a wolf-like growl emerging from his throat.  He leapt harmlessly by me and landed with a howl of pain.

"Stop this!" I snapped.  "You can't fight!"

"Like hell," he growled drowsily, throwing himself clumsily at me.  I dodged easily.  He collapsed again.  "Didn't you want to kill me!?  Fight me!"

"I don't kill cripples!" I said automatically, baring my teeth.

Pierre grimaced (I suppose it was a grin).  "Oh?" he said shortly.  "'Cripples'?  What about murderers?"

"Do you want me to kill you?" I asked slowly, my face set.

Pierre grinned like a demented man.  "You tell me."  He jumped towards me again.  I dodged again …

And cleared the way for Pierre to crash headfirst into a stone bench.

The crunch was audible and horrible.  I gasped instinctively and shuddered, barely able to look and at the same time unable to stop myself.

The crown of Pierre's head was caved in and bled slowly.  His eyes were open and blank; his large body was limp. His lips moved.  "Daddy?  I love her," he said shakily.

He died.

As if a vacuum had been created in the supernatural space, I felt Pierre's presence leave his body.  I shivered and cringed, shutting my eyes and drawing a slow breath to keep from retching.  When I was sure I wouldn't cry or throw up, I opened my eyes, knelt down, and drew my fingers over Pierre's eyes, closing his eyelids.  "You loved Stacey, didn't you?" I said quietly.  "You're an idiot."

And so ended the coven of Stacey.

Strangely, Pierre's abrupt death left me feeling as if there was an empty place inside me.

*   *   *

"Ken-san?"

Yumi's voice drew me back into the time stream.  "Yes?"  I asked, looking up to see Yumi approaching me, pale-faced and lacking the sexual swagger she usually added.

"I … I saw the beginning of the fight," she said slowly.  "Ken-san … you fight like … you fight like a …"

"Like a what?" I asked impatiently, getting back to my feet.

"Like a werewolf," Yumi finished regretfully.  "You fight with the strength and abandon of a werewolf."

I opened my mouth to scoff and froze as the more-than-a-bit of inhuman strength suddenly gained a new meaning and my dream in the hospital a new significance.  "I … I was bitten by a werewolf … but I didn't transform with the full moon …"

Yumi gave me a skeptical look.  "I don't know what sort of effect a werewolf bite would have on a Hunter," she sighed.  "I'm sorry I can't help, but it doesn't matter right now.  I found the _Gladius__ Deum_."

"Well, that's great," I said eagerly.  "Where is it?"

Yumi looked away.  "I … I can't lift it," she confessed ashamedly.

I blinked at her.  "What?"

"It's too heavy," she grimaced, smiling apologetically.  "I'm not entirely sure that even the car will support it safely."

I blinked again.  "So … we have the demonsbane, but we can't get it to the demon we need to use it against!?  That's just great!"  I threw up my hands in disgust.

"Ken-san, you can lift it with your strength!"  Yumi exclaimed.

"And carry it by foot all the way to Tokyo?" I snorted.  "I don't fly, you know!"  I paced away as reality slowly sank in.

_There's no way to stop her.  Goddammit, there's no way to stop Bel'uah, and she's going to destroy my hometown!_

I bit my lower lip and the corner of my mouth twitched.  _It's hopeless.  It's finally, truly hopeless…_ I giggled.  "I guess that's it then …" I murmured.  "Bye-bye, Tokyo …" I smiled widely and chuckled hysterically.

"Ken-san," Yumi said, but her voice sounded like it was far away.

I ignored her, flinging my arms wide and throwing my head back and laughing with abandon.  "Goodbye, Tokyo!" I shouted to the sky.  "_Sayonara!_"

"Ken-san!"

I didn't care what Yumi had to say anymore.  I was free.  There was nothing left to care about because I was helpless.  Useless.  I felt tears leaking out of my eyes, but I couldn't stop laughing.  I didn't want to stop.  In less than 12 hours everyone I knew would be dead, and I couldn't stop it.  What more was there to do than laugh at fate and die myself?

Something hit my side so violently I was carried to the ground.  I rolled onto my back, my laughter cut off, but giggles escaping me anyway.  It was Yumi who was dredging herself off of my chest.  She glared down at me and slapped me hard.  I just grinned.  "It's over," I said pleasantly.  "Everyone's going to Hell.  Let's go to Hell together."

"**_Ken!_**"  Yumi snarled.

She bent over me and kissed me.

Hard.

And it wasn't for a short time, either.

It shocked me right out of my hysteria, and when I was just beginning to wonder if I was going to pass out from lack of air she let me go.  "I'm not dying just yet," she said breathlessly, "And neither is anyone else."  She sat up and pushed her hair back.  "Feeling better, Ken-san?"

I coughed, sitting up.  "Um … what was that for?"

Yumi smiled slowly.  "To get you out of your little episode," she said primly.  "It worked, didn't it?  I guess it's just a bonus that I've wanted to do that since I saw you in that little leather number at the Club."

I couldn't believe it, considering the circumstances, but I found myself blushing.

*   *   *

                "I might be able to put a featherweight spell on the sword.  Or, if that doesn't work, I might put a strength spell on the car."

                I nodded, unable to look away from the _Gladius__ Deum_.  It was a long, double-edged sword built in the European style, with a long hilt to allow for a two-handed grip.  The blade itself, un-nicked and appearing entirely new, was black but seemed to have cobalt highlights; the cross guard was gold (or at least gold-plated) and the grip sturdy metal wrapped in leather.  The pommel contained a jewel the color of amethysts.  The whole sword had probably once stood on a stand, but the stand had long rotted away; it lay on the stone mantle in the inner sanctum.

                "Well?  Why don't you pick it up?" Yumi asked, her voice hushed.

                I reluctantly leaned forward to touch the hilt.  The sword seemed to demand reverence, and … "Can you sense it?  It's almost as if the sword's alive," I said quietly.

                Yumi nodded.  "I do," she whispered.

                I nodded, swallowing, and wrapped my hand around the hilt slowly.  Just as reluctantly I followed it up with the other hand.

                The sword was singing.

                I nearly let go in surprise.  "Did you hear that!?" I asked sharply.

                Yumi gave me a bewildered look.  "Hear what?"

                I shook my head slowly and listened to the wordless voice in my head.  It wasn't frightening; just … strange.  Actually, it was comforting.

                I bent my legs a bit, squared my shoulders, and hefted the _Gladius__ Deum_ from where it had laid for 100 years.

                It was heavy, but not unexpectedly so.  It wasn't half as heavy as the stone bench I'd picked up, but I could see why Yumi couldn't lift it.  "Wow," I whispered in awe.

                "Yeah," murmured Yumi.

                "Don't … don't magick this," I said reverently.  "Put that spell on Youji's car.  I don't think that it'd be right to … well, to put anything on this."

                "I think you're right," Yumi agreed.  "Let's … let's get going."

                I followed her out of the ruined shrine towards the sound of pattering rain.  The occasional drizzle had finally settled into steady, light rain.

                Yumi stopped short at the 'door' – the shouji we'd broken earlier.  "Oh no …" she murmured, bringing a hand up to her mouth.

                I came up behind her and poked my head out to look.  "What?"

                "You didn't really think I'd die that easily, did you?" snarled the figure standing in the rain.

                I caught my breath.

                "Aya."

*   *   *

                It was indeed Fujimiya Aya standing there, his bright red hair darkened to an auburn shade by the rain.  I could sense his inhuman presence.  His glare was the same as always; his katana was in his hand.

                "It took a while to heal from the silver," he said, as if it explained everything.

                I stared at him, torn between fear and anxiety and horror and elation.  He wasn't dead!  Yet … where Aya was …

                Bel'uah couldn't be far behind.

                "Ken-san, he's a psi-vampire," Yumi said with an amazed tone.  "Is … is this why you wanted to know about psi-vampires …?"

                I ignored her.  "Aya …" I croaked.  "I-I don't know what to say …"

                "You don't have to say anything.  Just lie down and die!"

                He attacked.

                Yumi shrieked and flung herself to the side, but I have never been so grateful for a sword as I was at that moment.  I automatically brought up my arms to defend myself, and Aya's katana clanged harmlessly against the metal of the _Gladius__ Deum_.  There was a shower of sparks and Aya was literally thrown backwards.  He barely retained his footing; his blade was smoking.

                The demonsbane sword in my hands was neither made hot nor scratched by Aya's crippling blow.

                I lowered the sword slowly.  "Aya, please," I begged, not even sure what I was asking for.  "Please don't …"

                Aya didn't even seem phased.  "Bethany-sama has ordered you dead," he said in his monotone voice.  "I _will_ kill you."

                "Just because she told you to?" I demanded, swallowing convulsively.  "Dammit!  I don't want to fight you!"

                Aya charged.  This time I sidestepped him, mortally afraid of killing him.  _Again,_ I thought morbidly.  He swiped his katana around to strike me even as he passed, and it took a fancy bit of acrobatics to avoid the blow.  On a dime he spun back to face me, moving with inhuman speed and agility and bending his body in ways I didn't think possible as he stabbed, swung, and cut at me while I came up with increasingly creative dodges as fast as I could.  "_Yamero_, Aya!  We don't have to kill each other!  We can break this thing!"

                "Break what?" Aya didn't miss a beat, and I performed an amazing back flip over Aya's head to escape the blow.

                "Your connection to Bel'uah!  You don't have to be her slave!" I pleaded.  "Please, stop!"

                Aya's eyes narrowed.  "I do not want to leave Bel'uah," he said.

                Something inside me shattered at those violent words.

                "That's a lie," I choked.  "You just think you like working for her!"

                But Aya's words had slowed me down just a little too much, and his accompanying stab took me in the soft flesh on my far right side, just above the pelvis. I drew my breath sharply and cried out with pain; Aya jerked his sword free and aimed for my chest.  I stumbled out of the way, clutching at my bleeding side, letting the tip of the _Gladius__ Deum_ trail on the ground before collapsing there myself.  "Shut up, Hidaka," Aya snarled, "And keep your nose out of my business!"

                I was vaguely aware of Aya standing over me and Yumi, further away.  I was far more aware of the pain from my pelvic region.  I had to get up.  Had to get up, had to get up so I wouldn't get killed.  It wasn't as bad as getting shot.  I would be okay.  I tried to convince myself that all this was true as I rolled onto my side to get to my feet.

Yumi's presence was slowly swelling in my mind, though … it was vaguely … familiar …

                "_Matre__ ex Deum!_"

                It was a spell.

                "Yumi-san!  _Yamero__!_" I screamed, but it was far too late for that.  I did the only thing I could think of.

                I clutched Aya's legs, knocking his knees together and bringing him crashing to the ground.  His katana stuck in the ground, inches from my chest.  The spell struck the wall and dissipated harmlessly.

                I felt Aya sit up, and when I opened my eyes the first thing I saw was Aya's fierce glare at the same time as his hands fisted in my hair.  He dragged me up to look at him at eye level.  "What the hell was that?" he snarled.

                "I – what was what?" I stammered, wincing.

                "You just saved me!"  he sounded pissed by it, but also … disappointed.

                "I. Don't. Want. To. Kill. You," I said haltingly, angrily, painfully.  "It was a mistake the first time!"  _And now Youji and Omi's lives aren't at stake._  "You—" I gasped at the pain, using both hands to staunch the flow of blood from my pelvis.  "Aya!  You're my friend.  You're Weiss.  You weren't the enemy until you chose Bethany over us, and that wasn't your fault!"  _Not entirely, anyway._  "Goddammit, Aya!  Will you let go of my hair at least?"

                Aya's fists only tightened.  "I am not leaving Bethany-sama!" he snapped.  "She's my provider!"

                I winced violently and forced my eyes to open and focus on the violet ones only a decimeter from my face.  "Aya, did Bel'uah ever make you _onigiri_ to eat in the morning?"

                Aya stared at me.  "What has that got to do with—"

                "Did she ever try to make you laugh, you stiff bastard?  Or help you with your problems, no matter how tightlipped you are?"  I drew a breath.  "Aya, she's a lying bitch.  She's a demon!  And whatever she promised you for your service, you'll never get from her."

                Aya's eyes flashed dangerously and he struck me across the cheek, flinging me to the ground.  I heard him get to his feet and pull free his sword.  "_Shi-ne!_" he snarled.

                I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for the end.

                It didn't come.

                I opened one eye cautiously.  Aya's sword was pointed at my neck, but he had frozen, his features twisted with hatred and something else.  His hand shook and his katana shook in it.  "A-Aya?" I stammered quietly.

                Aya didn't move.  His lips formed soundless words.  Then, very suddenly, he screamed and thrust his katana towards, sticking the point in the ground mere inches from my throat.  Hands going up to grip his temples, he howled with agony … and began to have a conversation with himself.  I stared at him, wound forgotten as cold, quiet Aya snarled at thin air, "No!  No!  I—_Urasai__!_  I won't—you can't—"

                "Aya?" I inquired hoarsely, struggling to get to my feet and collapsing again.  "What – who are you—"

                But if Aya heard me, he gave no indication.  He just kept talking.  "No!  He's right! I … no, please, goddammit, no!"

                And before he could say another word, Yumi was pinching his neck.

                Aya's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed.

                "Pressure point," she explained calmly as she laid a bloody palm on my wound.  I could only nod, my breath stolen from me.  "This is deep, so I can only stop the bleeding," she said quietly.  "_Atsui__._"

There was a sensation of searing that made me shiver and whimper, and when she pulled her hand away her palm was clean and dry and my wound was cauterized.  "_Arigatou__ gozaimasu_," I managed, sitting up slowly, still feeling as if I'd walked into Wonderland.  I glanced at Aya's slumped form and looked back to Yumi.  "What … Aya was …?"

Yumi scowled at me.  "Is this the psi-vampire that made you inquire after them at the hospital?" she asked sharply.

"Um—" I began, taking a moment to recall the conversation she was referring to.  "Um, yeah.  Yeah.  Aya.  He's under Bethany's control … or was, or something … I-I think they had some sort of psychic connection—"

Yumi cut me off.  "He was arguing with her."

"… What?"

"They had a psychic connection, you said.  Didn't it occur to you that maybe they can talk back and forth along this connection?"  Yumi shook her head.  "_Shimatta__!_  One of Bethany's subordinates … she must know exactly where we are.  She'll come after us – after you.  We've got to …" She looked around as if the shattered courtyard would answer her questions.

"No.  No.  We've got her," I said quietly.  I slowly and painstakingly regained my feet.  "Aya … Aya's unwittingly acting as bait.  She knows … and she's coming … right into the arms of the _Gladius__ Deum_."  I walked the few paces to the demonsbane and bent over to pick it up.  Immediately its gentle song comforted me, and I sighed.  "We've got to get Aya someplace safe."

Yumi looked up at me, apprehension and understanding in her gaze.  "Will you be able to handle it?" she asked worriedly.

"No," I shook my head irritably.  "No.  I never could.  But …

"I don't think that I have any choice."

*   *   *

Author's Notes: Look. Look. It's the second-to-last part! YAAAAAAY!!!!

Okay, okay, so I wimped out and didn't kill Aya for real. Yet. Bwahahahahahaa! If I don't get around to telling about Aya-chan, Ran, and Bethany, I'll explain in the final footnotes. And Pierre's death … well, I want to talk about Pierre a bit.

Pierre is a werewolf, plain and simple. Yes, he was in love with Stacey, in case you didn't guess. His big beef with Ken is that he has to fulfill Stacey's last orders – to make the rest of Ken's life a living hell, and to kill Bel'uah. When Ken breaks his leg he realizes he can't fulfill either order and wants to die. Ken, on the other hand, suffers a guilty streak about killing someone who's essentially helpless. Since Pierre can't get Ken to kill him, he basically kills himself. You asked about his last words? I guess he was flashing back to his childhood. His head was caved in, and honestly, I can't claim credit for writing that scene. Pierre and Ken took my initial ideas and just ran with it until the end.

Silver Angel, I _told_ you I'd get my act together and talk about Ken being a werewolf. ::sticks out tongue at you::  AND!  I updated, of course … if you read it … ^^x  Hope you like!

Well, that's about it. A pleasure, truly … can't wait for feedback from y'all! ^^x Thank you soo much for all your reviews and helpful comments!

~~Vikki


	13. Part Thirteen

_Dream of Crimson – Part XIII_

_By Vikki_

Disclaimer:  Ken and Aya and a few others are the property of Takehito Koyasu.  Bethany/Bel'uah, Yumi, and Raphael are mine and I reserve the right to kill them on a whim.

Flame Policy:  TOOOUDAAAA!! ^^x;;;;

*   *   *

                The rain was coming down hard.

                Yumi and I had managed to heft Aya long enough to get him out of the rain.  However, I couldn't bear the sight of Pierre's pathetic-looking body lying crumpled on the ground, and I piled stones on top of him until he was covered as a makeshift grave before huddling with Yumi under the crumbling eaves of the shrine.

                Bel'uah was coming.  She was close enough to sense.  I gripped the demonsbane so tight my knuckles turned white.  My hip was throbbing a bit; my entire body was stiff and sore.

                Yumi put her hand on mine.  "A little on edge, are we?" she asked wanly.

                "I-I'm not ready for this," I managed, pulling my hand away.  "It's nothing.  I never will be ready, and I never would have been."  It was an effort to keep my voice from trembling, because deep down, I knew completely that I had no hope alone.  No mortal, Hunter or not, could possibly stand a chance against a real, live demon.

                Yumi looked down at her hands.  They were covered with scars from slicing herself open for spell after spell.  "I'm sorry … sorry about everything," she said.  "I didn't mean to … to get you drawn into this."

                I laughed mirthlessly.  "Don't give yourself so much credit," I snorted.  "The one who drew me into this mess was Aya himself.  Although I suppose Bethany was the real reason he dragged me along … ultimately, it all goes back to her.  Your coven.  Aya.  Pierre.  If you want to blame someone, blame Bel'uah."

                Yumi smiled slightly, clearly not quite believing me.  "Thank you, Ken-san."  Then, abruptly, her eyes sharpened.  "Ken-san, she's no more than two kilometers away," she murmured.  "Be on your guard."

                Yumi had more experience using her 'spirit sense', as she called it, than I did; although I knew Bethany was getting close, I had no concept of what distance constituted 'close' (as most of my sixth sense-related encounters entailed 'close' as being 'already pinned').  So when she said that Bel'uah was only two kilometers away, I believed her.

                I don't think that either of us realized just how fast Bethany could cross two kilometers.

                Yumi swayed to her feet.  "I think I'm going to try to call up a _shikigami_," she said gently.  "It may take me a few minutes; stay here, you don't want to be too close when the spirit first rises," she advised even as she produced the knife she seemed to carry around solely to cut herself with.  She walked towards the corner of the shrine's eaves and faced me, slashing her palm with the knife.  She closed her eyes, clasping her hands together.  Blood dripped freely from her joined fists.  She began to chant.

                I looked down at Aya, still passed out on the cold stone, his face peaceful in sleep.  He looked so much more … pleasant … and maybe even pretty ... when he wasn't scowling or shooting a Death Glare at anyone in the general vicinity.  How a man like this could have ended up sucked in to Bethany's desires, I didn't know.  I _did_ know had been my last words – _whatever she promised you for your service, you'll never get from her_ – that had triggered his violent argument with Bel'uah inside his head.  I wondered what Bethany could have promised Aya to make him join her.  

I pushed his bangs away from his sweaty forehead and saw worry lines there.  Funny how I'd never noticed them before.  I wondered what Aya was—

                She was here.

                Two kilometers.  It took her less than a minute to cross two kilometers!  "Yumi-san!"  I shouted, scrambling to my feet, Aya's worry lines forgotten for the moment.  "Yumi-san, Bel'uah's—"

                I cut off the moment I looked up.

                Yumi had stopped chanting.  But that was probably because there was a big, black, gleaming blade stuck straight through her throat.

                I made a strangled noise.

                Yumi was still alive.  She stared at me, mouth working soundlessly; her dark brown eyes were full of shock and sadness and … disappointment.  Blood was running down her chest.  She wasn't supporting herself; she was practically hanging from the blade.

                With a sick, sucking, _splurch_, the sword was withdrawn from Yumi's neck only to reappear through her chest.  Right through her heart.  Sick parody of a vampire's death, I thought dazedly.  Blood spurted.  Yumi's eyes widened and unfocused and her mouth opened wide and I think she would have screamed if the gaping hole in her throat wasn't there.

                And all I could do was stand there helplessly, staring like an idiot.

                There were no dramatic last words or even feelings conveyed; Yumi make choked sounds, sort of, and her bleeding throat attempted to suck down air.  She convulsed once, violently, and died.  Her eyes glazed over and her body shut down, slumping from its rigid death pose.

                Revealing, unsurprisingly, the petite, blood-spattered figure of Bethany Gramm, who dispassionately shook Yumi's body off her oversized sword and let her flop to the ground, drowning in a crimson puddle.

                I was going to be violently sick.  But first, I was going to kill Bel'uah.  A hundred times over.  A thousand times.  Maybe a million times, just for kicks.  I was shaking.  Was it rage, or shock?  Or both?  Did it matter?  I kept trying to tell myself that I hadn't seen what I just saw.  It was too surreal.  It was too sudden.  It didn't happen.  People weren't allowed to die that suddenly.  Aya was proof.

                But Yumi wasn't going to come back.  Because Yumi was just a human.  Not a vampire.  Not a werewolf.  A human who could tap the lifestream.

                I was shaking with anger and horror combined, I decided.  Because regardless of what methods Yumi had used to get her desires, her motives were pure.

                She didn't deserve to die like that.  Just as Aya didn't deserve to die on the floor of the _Koneko_ the night before.  I trembled with rage.

                Bethany looked up at me from under brown bangs made wet by the rain, those unnerving blue eyes boring into me.  "You had so much potential, Hidaka-san," she said, a bell of regret ringing in her tone.

                I snapped.

Like a rubber band stretched for too long, too many times, I broke.  If Yumi's death was the straw that broke the camel's back, that sentence was the hay-load that crushed it.  "It's.  ALL.  Your.  Fault!" I screamed.  I was hysterical.  I didn't care.  "Everything!  You set me up!  You ruined Aya!  You killed Yumi!  You killed all those witches and countless others _remorselessly_, you made Aya turn Youji into a vampire, you nearly drove Omi crazy!  _It's all your fault and I am going to fucking kill you, you goddamned asshole bitch!_"  

This wasn't for Tokyo anymore.  This was fucking personal.

And you know what really bites?  Bethany wasn't phased at all.  She looked down her nose at me, the tip of her bloody sword resting on the ground in front of her, her hands on the pommel.  "If' you'd only killed Kaori Yamamoto when I told you to, most of this could have been avoided," she said calmly.

Oh no.  Not this time.  I was tired of shouldering the guilt.  She was not going to dump this on me!  "Don't play with me!" I growled, and was rewarded with a slight widening of Bethany's eyes.  "I am _not_ responsible for this."

It felt so good to say that, despite everything.  It felt so good to know that it was true.

And it felt _really _good to finally ruffle Bethany's feathers.  She narrowed her eyes a bit.  "If you think you've done something wonderful, you really ought to reconsider," she said coldly.  "Thanks to you, the fighting between witches and vampires will continue, and more innocent people will die.  If you had killed Yamamoto there would have been peace!"

"Peace like World War II," I shot back.  "People too terrified to dissent for fear of being shot in the street – that's peace?!  _Peace_, my ass!"

The look Bethany gave me for that little comment stood my hair on end, but I wasn't about to back down.  "I am giving you one last chance, Hidaka-san, to stop being ridiculous and obey me.  You still have 8 hours.  If you succeed I will be willing to … _overlook_ this little episode and let you live in allegiance with me," she offered stiffly.

If I still had any sort of restraint, I would have said something less stupid.  But I wasn't exactly doing well in the tact department at that point.  "I would much rather die," I said flatly, "And you must be pretty damn desperate to be pulling the fear card on me.  What's got you so afraid?  Or is it _this_ little number?"  I held out the _Gladius__ Deum_ proudly.

For the record: don't ever tell a demon that she's desperate.  Or, for that matter, point out what she's afraid of.  Unless you're much, much more powerful than she is.  Because that was the point at which Bethany got tired of talking and attacked.

Bethany's blows rained down on me, her sword flying in her hands.  I could barely follow the movement; I backpedaled furiously.  She moved like a shadow, and somehow she blended in with the semi-dark of the dreary midday rain as if she was not really there.  I had the demonsbane on my side, it was true, but I was not half so fast as Bethany, who was several times faster than Aya, or as agile as her, or as strong as her.  I was outclassed in every department, because I was a pathetic little human-Hunter-werewolf-thing facing off with a demon.  The only reason I lasted as long as I ended up lasting was because the _Gladius__ Deum_ seemed to fight on its own.  I wasn't nearly fast enough (or strong enough) to parry her sword with any sort of effectiveness, but in my hands, the demonsbane sword flashed to protect me.  And always, I could hear the song of the sword, like a strange comfort in the back of my mind.

However, it did little to suppress the terror rising within me.  She moved like the wind and never tired.  I lost sense of time; there was nothing but her blade and mine, clashing against each other in cascades of sparks as if each weapon were a firecracker, and Bel'uah's leering face full of confidence and hate.

I did know that some time had passed, though, because I was so cold and wet from the drenching rain, dripping from my hair down the back of my neck; I could feel my arms getting sluggish; the effort of holding up the _Gladius__ Deum_ was becoming a strain; the toll of insomnia was coming back to bite me. I couldn't concentrate any more.  I slipped in a puddle.

It was all the opening Bethany needed.

Off-balance, I thrust out my arms to catch myself, and with a triumphant shout Bethany stepped inside my sword range and slit my left arm open from my elbow to my shoulder.

I've been cut before.  I've been cut pretty badly before.  In fact, this wound wasn't half as bad as the one Stacey gave me shooting me in the shoulder or a couple that Farfello's given me in the past.  But this wound put me in more agony than either.  I screamed and let go of the demonsbane with my right hand to grab at my shoulder, the sticky blood spilling onto my hand only to be washed away by the pouring rain.  My entire arm felt as if it was dunked in gasoline, lit on fire, and shoved into a barrel of ice – if that makes any sense.  The feeling was so contradictory, but the pain was very definite.

Fortunately, unlike Pierre, Bethany seemed to want to take a minute to revel in my agony.  She smiled coldly.  "Do you wish you'd chosen differently?" she asked.

It was so much effort to do it, but I sucked a breath from between my teeth, straightened, and released my shoulder.  I held my hand palm-up in the rain to clean it before grasping the _Gladius__ Deum_ with both hands again.  "Shut up," I gritted out.  My arm throbbed with fire and ice, almost blotting out the song of the demonsbane.

Bethany laughed a remorseless, bone-chilling laugh and came down on me again with her sword.  Every parried blow felt as if my arm were being ripped open again by the jarring impact, and I was so slow she scored several more, less severe cuts on my thigh, my right shoulder, and across my chest.  "You asked if I was afraid," she said loftily as if it were a conversation over dinner.  "I fear nothing – especially not foolish Hunters pretending they know how to use a sword!"  She punctuated these last words with a punishing attack that nearly knocked the _Gladius__ Deum _from my hands and (to my endless surprise) punched me in the stomach.

Her punch packed about twenty times the power Pierre's did.  I literally flew backwards about three meters, and if my stitches hadn't torn before, they definitely had now.  The only reason I didn't cry out was because the wind was knocked out of me; the pain was so severe I nearly impaled myself on my own sword while obliviously curling around my torso, blood filling my mouth and making me cough while at the same time my body attempted to fill my lungs with air.  The result was a strange combination of hitched breaths and hacking coughs, and all the while my bleeding arm throbbed in time with my heartbeat.

Call me ungrateful, but there were only two things I could think right then.  The first one was, _don't let go of the demonsbane, or you're finished, _and the second thought was _why didn't she just impale me on her sword the way she did Yumi?_

"Despite your … idiocy, Hidaka-san, I think that a quick death may be too good for you," Bethany said from somewhere over me, as if reading my mind.  Then, I might have said that last thought out loud.  I was kind of floaty; my brain was still trying to deny the degree of hurt I was experiencing.  "You have caused me a great deal of unnecessary trouble.  Also …" there was a thoughtful pause, which was morbidly funny because now that I thought about it, it was strange that demons had to stop to think.  "It's been some time since I've killed with my own hands.  I think I should draw out the pleasure a bit," she says in a pleasant 'let's chat over tea' voice.

I was not going to be sick.  I really wasn't.  But I was already on the ground hacking up blood, and it didn't seem like too much trouble to add whatever was left in my stomach to the puddle.  By the time the coughing fit had settled and my torso had finally decided to stop being Hell on earth (settling instead for being a lake of fire), I was so exhausted that sitting up was going to take most of my energy.  The world kept tilting crazily when I opened my eyes; My arm was getting stiff under me, and the wound wouldn't stop bleeding.  The stab wound on my pelvis had reopened.  There was only one thought in my (shaky and largely shattered) mind:

_Don't let go of the demonsbane_.

Bethany's fingers slipped under my chin and forced me to look at her, her hand locked around my jaw.  I didn't resist; I didn't have the energy to.  My entire effort was devoted to attempting (and failing) to lift the _Gladius__ Deum_.

Bethany smiled a slow, cruel smile.  I didn't see her sword, which strangely frightened me.  She drew one arm back.  "Just think how lucky you are," she whispered.  "The very last thing you will ever see … is me."

My fear shot up into the range of panic-stricken terror and I tried to tear away, but her hand on my jaw held me fast.  Her drawn-back hand drove forward.

Into my left eye.

I don't really remember what happened immediately after that, because there was a roaring in my ears and my vision was gone, just gone, and it hurt so badly but not the way that it hurt to be shot or cut and I think I was screaming or crying or something but I wasn't sure what exactly because all I knew was pain and shock and fear all at once.

                When I came back to myself, I was still collapsed on the ground.  The rain was heavy and drenching and seemed to hurt, my pain threshold was so low.  I hadn't let go of the _Gladius__ Deum_; I could feel the imprints the leather grip was making on my palms.  My hearing wasn't quite right yet, because I could hear the rain but it sounded scratchy and as if ocean waves were crashing somewhere nearby.  Something wet and sticky was running down the left side of my face; there was pain in my left eye socket, but it was distant, barely throbbing.

I couldn't see out of my left eye.

                How could I describe it?  It wasn't like I 'saw' blackness; my vision had merely been reduced to half its original range.  I had no sense of depth.  Everything was inverted in color and blurry, but that was probably because I was half-delirious.  I saw Bethany's black (so it was really white) face looking at me bemusedly.  She was clearly enjoying this.  I felt both disgust and bone-chilling fear.  My entire body locked up at the sight of her and everything hurt more.  I could see blood on her fingers and I wanted to throw up but I didn't have anything left to heave.  "I-I-I … p-please …" I began through chattering teeth, not sure what I was begging for.  I was in shock.  I had just lost an eye, and I was in shock.

                "'Please', what, Hidaka-san?" she asked, taking my chin in her hand again.

                I froze at that gesture; my mind was going a million kilometers a second and at the same time was stuck.  She was going to take out my other eye.  She was going to blind me.  Bethany was going to stab out my eyes and blind me and then keep right on torturing me until I was dead.

                I couldn't die.  I had sworn to kill Bel'uah.  I had to avenge Aya and Youji and Omi and Yumi. I had to protect Tokyo.  I had to get away … had to get up …

                "Let … let h-him … let him g-go," stammered a voice from the direction of the _Kami__ no Kaze _shrine.

                Bethany looked up and cocked an eyebrow and released me.  I let my head fall to the stone floor and twisted it slowly to see the newcomer.

                It was Aya.  He stood, trembling slightly, in the rain, his katana gripped tightly in both gloved hands, his eyes narrowed dangerously in his _'Takatori, shi-ne!' _glare.  That glare was focused solely on Bethany.  "I-I've had e-enough!"  His voice shook as if was a great effort to speak, which was strange in conjunction with his fierce face.

                Blood was getting in my eye.  (My _eye_, my one and only eye!  Oh god, don't let me faint.)  With a great deal of effort I let go of the demonsbane with one hand and wiped the blood away in time to see Bethany's eyebrows shoot up.  "I'm amazed you can speak to me that way," she said.  "The things you told me earlier today were quite mutinous."

                _Amazed … Mutinous …?_  I took slow, deep breaths, trying to slow my breathing from terror-driven near-hyperventilation, trying to get my strength back, and trying to comprehend the situation.  Ninety minutes before Aya had been trying to kill me, and I had the wound to prove it; now he was facing up to Bethany!

                Aya actually flinched at her words, though, and I cringed in sympathy.  He looked as if he were fighting something I couldn't see.  "I … I want …" he drew a deep breath, his scowl never losing its intensity.  "I … c-can't let … can't l-let you k-kill him.  I-I ne-ne-never wanted to!"

                Bethany's voice went cold and dead, and I could feel that horrible spiritual oppression that she had used on me that one time in her office come down hard.  "I was willing to overlook your foolishness before, Fujimiya, because I needed you.  But I will not tolerate this any longer.  Do not forget the terms of our contract!"

                But while I whimpered quietly and clutched at my aching head, Aya never wavered.  He spoke deliberately, nearly shouting, shaking his head so rain droplets flew off his hair and nose.  "I. Break. Our. Contract!"

                I threw my free arm over my head instinctively as I felt something shatter, but there was nothing to protect myself from.  The shatter was completely metaphysical.

                I thought I saw Bel'uah recoil, her fearful aura withdrawing so fast I felt as if I was floating for an instant.  Then I was sightless again as blood began to get into my eye again.  I wiped it away while some lonely, cynical part of my mind thought that my empty eye socket (I held back my bile) would never stop bleeding, and neither would any of my other wounds.  Another mysterious part of me observed that I was doing a little better if I had time to think about that.  I attempted to dredge myself up slowly from the ground, but I was so disoriented that I did nothing better than get the demonsbane, still clutched in my hand, in front of me so I could hoist myself onto my elbows.  At least the blood wouldn't drip into my eyes (_eye_) any more.

                Aya was talking again, and now his voice wasn't hesitant or halting, as if breaking the contract, whatever that was, really had freed him to talk to Bethany any way he wanted.  "—from you, because you won't leave here alive," he snarled.  "You were never going to heal her!  You strung me along for almost a year!"

                Bethany glared at him arrogantly.  "You fool," she whispered.  "You were so close.  So close!  You were my best vampire!"

                I knew the rage in Aya's eyes all too well, and I had never before been so relieved to see it.  "_Bel'uah__!  Shi-ne!"_  He charged.

                Bethany held out her hand and her sword wavered back into existence with an intense wave of evil like ice cracking my bones. She smiled.

                If I had premonition, I could have been no more certain that Aya was going to die.  "Aya!  Don't!" I cried desperately, brokenly.  "You can't—"

                Aya, ever the direct one, raised his katana over his head and brought it down on Bethany's sword with a resounding _clang_.  Something intangible came off the evil blade, and Aya's katana shattered.  He was thrown back like a rag doll, his body out of my sight in the pouring rain.  "Aya!" I screamed hoarsely just as distant thunder rumbled.               Bethany cocked her head and looked down at me.  "Shush, boy; of course I'll be good enough to kill him in front of you."

                I cursed a blue streak at her and tried to stand again through a haze of dizziness and pain, and again failed although now I had my knees underneath me.  Vaguely I wondered how much blood I had lost; the rest of me was consumed by fear, worry, and anger.  Bethany just laughed and leapt away into the rain, leaving me alone with the approaching thunder.

                I squeezed my eye shut and tears rolled out of it.  Aya _was_ on our side.  He had overcome and come back.

                Just in time to die.

                A strangled shout, suddenly cut off, emerged from the quiet roar of falling rain. I frantically tried to gain my feet, but the blood loss … it was too much.  I could see the red rivulets of rain-diluted blood under my body.  The bleeding had slowed and the pain was numbing (shock, I knew, but I would take what I could get) but even my adrenaline wouldn't get me off the cold courtyard floor.

                When Bethany reappeared, carrying Aya by the throat, it was all I could do to not burst into hysterical tears and let myself die.  He was bleeding all over; his dangerous violet eyes were dazed, almost glazed over.  His breath was labored and strained.  I ducked my head, shutting my eye.

                "Watch," Bethany snarled, and I couldn't stop myself looking back up slowly.  "Any last words, Aya?"

                Torture.  Oh god, Bethany really was extending my death as long as possible as my blood slowly washed away in a fog of pain.  A dream bathed in crimson.

                Aya's eyes drifted towards me.  I stared at him, unable to look away.  "Ken …" he grunted feebly.  He drew a strangled breath.  "Ken, my _imouto_ … take care of …" his voice ground to a halt as Bethany's grip tightened.

                My own breath caught.  _Imouto__?__  Aya has a … younger sister?_

                That poor girl …

                She didn't deserve this.  Aya didn't deserve this.  I was going to stand up.  I was going to stand and swing the demonsbane sword and cut Bethany in half—

                No miracles happened.  I didn't stand up.  The _Gladius__ Deum_ sang quietly in my ears but did not magically move.  And Bethany didn't drop dead.

                She plunged her sword through Aya's heart, and before he could even react, she grasped his neck in both hands and twisted his head right off his shoulders.

                I never had and probably never will see a more gruesome death.  It was the sounds that made it horrible; I could hear Aya's neck break, the sinews tearing, the horrible little _aughk_ noise that constituted the last of his breath passing through his vocal cords, the _squelch_ of blood and muscle and tissue between Bethany's manicured fingers.

                His body fell to the ground with a wet plop and his head rolled within two feet of me.

                I know she killed him that way for my benefit because she grinned ferally at me as she let the rain wash the blood and flesh off her fingers.

                I stared at Aya's head for the most horrible eternal moment of my entire existence.  And then, with a little gasp of breath, I collapsed into darkness.

_                Oh god_

_                                She killed him for real_

_I can't except this death_

_                                                                                I can't except her victory_

_                                                I promised Yumi_

_I have to avenge them_

_                Youji's condition_

_                                                                Breaking Omi_

_                                Killing Aya_

_Killing Yumi_

_Tokyo___

_                Aya's sister_

_                                                I can't die yet_

_I promised them all_

_                                                                But … I'm so tired of this!_

_                I'm tired_

_                                                Yet …_

_Yet …___

_                                                                Yet …_

_                                                                                Bel'uah is going to kill me_

_She's killing me_

_                                I'm dying already_

_                                                                Is revenge worth the pain?_

_                I don't know anymore._

_                                                                                                But …_

_                                                                                                                                I know …_

_                                                                                                                                                I don't want to die._

                I opened my eyes.

                The first thing I knew was that the rain had let up a bit and the thunder was closer.  The second thing I knew was that my left eye was still gone, I was still in pain, and I was still bleeding.  But more importantly … I was still breathing.

                Good sign.

                But I felt different.  Very different.  It wasn't a bad different; just a strange one.  I felt … confident.  Strong in mind.  Secure in heart.

                My fear – my terror of Bethany – was totally gone.

                Very strange … what was this?  Was I just completely without fear because I had no hope and knew I was going to die?  Was I already dead and just _thought_ I was still alive?  I thought I'd seen that in a movie once.

                But … why did it matter how I had gotten back my confidence?  I still had the _Gladius__ Deum_.  I could fight back.  If I was dead, then this wasn't such a bad way to be dead at all.

                It was time to get Bel'uah out of Japan and back to Hell.

                I had the energy to get to my feet now, but I didn't want to just get up.  My sixth sense told me that Bethany was to my left, so I rolled to my right, placing the demonsbane sword so I wouldn't cut myself on it.  I came to my feet, my blade in my hands where it belonged.

                _Whoa … where did I get sword skills?_

Bethany.  I had to stay focused, which I found easy for someone who was literally having the blood washed out of them.  I looked up sharply  and peered through the rain with my one good eye, only bothered slightly by the lack of whole vision.

                What I saw made me gape.

                There was Bethany, all right, but she was staring at me as if I had suddenly sprouted wings.  And … was that _terror_ I saw in her eyes?

                Yet, that wasn't the really surprising part.

                I could see Bethany the nonhuman still, but … occupying the same space … was a huge, hulking creature with a black, scaly hide, large dragon wings, flaring nostrils spitting sulfur, huge clawed fingers and toes, gigantic curved fangs, and pupil-less yellow eyes.  It was no less frightened than Bethany.

                And I knew immediately (_already knew_, some part of me thought) that this ugly creature was the true form of the demon Bel'uah.  That it was hiding in the form of Bethany, but I had exposed it.

                I should have been frightened.  I should have wanted to scream because every hulking inch of Bel'uah was terrifying and deadly.  But I was only strongly repulsed.  "I've won, Bel'uah," I said.  "It's over.  I've won."  _I have?_ I thought.  _I haven't touched her … it._  Whatever.  It sounded good, anyway, and I _knew_ – there was no doubt – that I was telling the truth.  I _had_ won.  Perhaps I had just won by cheating death.

                But Bel'uah just stared at me with wide blue eyes and bulbous yellow ones.  "I killed you!  I tore you limb from limb with my own claws!" it shrieked, both its human form and its true form speaking in one voice.  "You are not alive!"

                I knew what it was talking about.  _I remember this!?  This isn't my memory!_ I thought fiercely.  Things were getting a little weird, but I knew what to say and said it.  "You have no power over death.  That right was stripped from you."

                "No!" Bel'uah squealed.  'Squealed' was definitely the right word for it; it sounded like a little schoolgirl who wanted candy and couldn't have it.  "I have power!  I earned my power!  I will _keep_ my power, and I'll kill you again, and again, and again until you die for good!"

That would have terrified me only minutes ago, but now I knew it was an empty threat.  _What the hell caused this turnaround?  What is Bel'uah so scared of in me!?_

But I knew the answer to that question.

The song of the _Gladius__ Deum_ no longer resonated through my palms.  It was _inside_ me.  I _was_ the song—

And the song was an angel.  Whose name, incidentally, was Raphael.  And, he had banished Bel'uah to Hell twice in the past.

"I really have won," I murmured in slight amazement.

Bel'uah let loose an agonized scream and attacked me.

I could feel my wounds, could feel the horrible pain of them burning on my skin and under my skin, but using the confidence and skill of Raphael, I pushed back the pain and engaged her, our swords clashing again and again.  I had to compensate for the loss of sight in my left eye, which forced me to go on the defensive a bit more than I would have liked (although going on the offensive at _all_ was an improvement over the first engagement).  I slashed and parried and ducked and spun and feinted and stabbed and scored hits and received a couple hits.  It wasn't an easy fight by any stretch of the imagination, but at least I wasn't ridiculously outclassed this time.  In fact … we were just about even.  But if I was disadvantaged in that I was slowly bleeding to death in the pouring rain, I had the sizable advantage of not being afraid.

It was strange to be fighting the duel natures of Bel'uah – I was still able to see both her humanoid and dragonesque forms as we fought all across the courtyard.  But just as Bethany was a physical manifestation of Bel'uah, the _Gladius__ Deum_ was a physical manifestation of Raphael and his sword.  If I scored a hit on Bethany, I scored a hit on Bel'uah as well.

And that was when Bel'uah tripped up – literally.  Bethany was backing away from my onslaught when she tripped on a piece of rubble and fell onto her back.  The demon form collapsed as well, but instead of attempting to get up … it began to grovel, pleading for mercy.  I marveled for a moment before I instinctively put my sword to its neck, which shut it up promptly.

"I told you I'd won," I said quietly, the rain dripping off my hair and onto Bethany's soaked form, a rumble of thunder threatening.  "I should … I should tear you to pieces.  I should kill you and watch you regenerate and kill you again!"  My voice shook with emotion.  "I should torture you for killing Aya … killing Yumi!"

Bel'uah just swallowed, watching me with wild eyes.  _I caused this.  I won!  Bel'uah was afraid of Raphael at first, but … now … it is afraid of _me.  

_Yet … _Oh, it was so tempting to do horrible things to Bel'uah.  I wanted almost nothing but to be able to torture this demon with my own hands!  _Yet … I didn't really stay alive for revenge.  I stayed alive …_

_… because I didn't want to die._

_Because there is something out there after this mess._

If I tried to keep Bel'uah here on earth just so I could have my fill torturing it, there would be disaster.  So I did the hardest thing I thought I had ever done.

I gave up revenge.

"But …" I trembled as I spoke.  "But you are terrified of me, and I think … I think that's the worst thing I can do to you right now … so … I will send you …"  I took a deep breath.  "… to Hell."

There was a pause in which Bel'uah actually cringed.

It didn't want to go to Hell.  Well.  Good.

"Please … don't send me there," Bel'uah whispered in a broken voice.

"I hope you rot there forever," I said passionately.

I swept the _Gladius__ Deum _through the air, opening a rift into … nothingness.  Immediately Bel'uah panicked, screaming, pleading with me to not be sent back to that awful place.

I watched with unspoken pleasure as Bel'uah was dragged, screaming, through the hole in time and space and disappeared.

Forever.

What a wonderful word that was.

The rift closed itself like a self-zipping zipper.

I was just beginning to notice that the rain was nearly stopped when my blood loss caught up with me, and like an anemic I toppled into unconsciousness.

*   *   *

Author's Notes:

                Well.

                I ground it out.

                There it is.  The climax.  It's done.

                Well … sort of.  I'm sure Silver Angel will find something wrong with it, ne, Silver Angel?  ^^x;;; Just kidding.  Thanks again for all your help – you've been such an awesome reviewer.

Well, obviously there will be an epilogue.  (I dunno, leaving Ken unconscious on the courtyard of a shrine out in the boonies just doesn't seem like a good ending point.)  If you want to find out what exactly happened to Aya, you'll have to read that too; for the record, though, he really is DEAD this time.  ::insert evil laughter here::  And Yumi … well, actually, I knew she was going to die about the time that her coven started being killed off.  She was doomed.  She won't be doing any weird appearances in the epilogue (as far as I know), so don't go looking for her.

Before everyone gets all huffy about the anticlimactic angel/demon fight, it's _supposed_ to be anticlimactic.  The moment Raphael appears, it's all over for Bel'uah.  She/it doesn't stand a chance against an angel.  She knows it.  I plan to go into why in … yes!  The sequel!

Because, in case you can't tell, there _will _be a sequel.  I'll talk a little bit more about it after this part has been edited to Silver Angel's satisfaction (wink ^~x;;) and the epilogue is up.

Don't forget to stop by the edited part 12 if you haven't already.  I made a few significant changes, especially to the Aya part.

Thank you again and again and again to everyone who reviewed!  You all make me feel very special and very loved.  Keeshe, I'm still in shock over the length of your review; thank you soooooo much!  That is **exactly** the kind of review that writers like me love.

Please don't forget to review this time too!  ^~x

~~Vikki


	14. Epilogue

_Dream of Crimson – Epilogue_

_By Vikki_

Disclaimer:  Almost all characters in question are owned by Takehito Koyasu. Please don't sue me; I am broke.

Flame Policy:  I'll use them to light my celebration bonfire.  ^^x

Pre-notes:  Okay, I admit that this is silly, but … does anyone have any fanart for this story?  Or would they make some?  I'm planning on building a website for this fic, and if you want to make fanart because you are a nice person at heart, I will gladly host it on my site and thank you forever and ever. ^____________^x  my e-mail is chan_minako@hotmail.com!!

*   *   *

                The wind was rushing in my ears when I came to, but I was against something wonderfully warm.  Everything hurt so badly; my pain threshold was so low that the contact of my clothes with my skin seemed to burn.  I huddled desperately into the warmth I felt, barely opening one eye.  (My fuzzy-feeling brain didn't quite process the fact that it was my _only _eye.)

                I was curled against someone's chest.  We seemed to be moving awfully fast.

                That was red hair I saw.  I tilted my head back, looking up at violet eyes and eartails.

                "A … Aya?" I mumbled.  That wasn't quite right.  Aya was dead.  I was pretty sure.  Maybe not.

                "Go back to sleep, Ken," Aya said – without moving his lips.

That was possible?  Okay.  Sure.  I didn't have the energy to argue.  "_Oyasumi_, Aya," I whispered, drifting away again.

                I was asleep before Aya could reply.

*   *   *

                I woke up in a hospital room.

                I stared at the white ceiling, and for a moment I didn't dare to breathe.  How could I have gotten there?  The last thing I remembered was collapsing at the _Kami__ no Kaze _shrine, several hours away from the rest of civilization ...

                "Ken?"

                Kenji.  Okay.  So I was in Tokyo again.  Probably.  "Kenji?" I tried to say, but my throat was parched.  I croaked instead.

                Kenji loomed into my vision.  There were dark circles under his eyes, and there was a long thin scab on his cheek.  He smiled very slightly.  "It's good to see you awake, Ken," he said as if a loud sound would shatter me.  "Here." He lowered a straw to my mouth.  I sucked and swallowed water, and with that I realized that I was dying of thirst.  I sucked the water down greedily until I had to stop for breath.

                "Um … Kenji … where are we?  What's going on?"  I brought my hand up to massage my forehead, where a slight headache resided, and encountered bandages.

                Oh yeah.  Lost an eye.  I drew a shuddering breath and turned on my side, curling up under the sheets, the events of the last … day? … rushing back to me, along with their implications.  Aya was dead.

                Good.  Happy thoughts.  I forced myself to pay attention to what Kenji was saying.  "… School Bus Hospital.  You've been in a coma."  I must have looked startled, because he hastily amended, "but only for a week or so."  Kenji paused, fidgeting with the cup of water.  "Ken, I'll understand if you don't want to explain … but what happened at the shrine?  Some … some very strange things happened around here …"

                _Strange things?_  I was suddenly gripped by fear.  "Where's Youji?  Omi?  Are they okay?  What happened?" I demanded, reaching up and grabbing Kenji's shirt despite my aching arm.

                "They're alive, Ken," Kenji reassured me, grabbing my hand and squatting so we were eye-to eye.  He smiled wanly.  "It's all right.  They're alive."

                "But not okay?" I whispered.

                Kenji's slight smile faded.  "Physically … Omi-san's got a broken leg, but nothing more major.  Youji-san's fine.  But … psychologically … I'm sorry, Ken.  Omi-san was attacked by _gaki_with the appearance of you and Youji-san.  He came close to a mental breakdown.  He won't talk to me."

                I swallowed hard.  "And … Youji?"

                "He's faking it very well."  Kenji squeezed my hand reassuringly as my grip on his shirt loosened.  "I don't think you can help him, Ken.  He needs to figure out how to deal with this himself."

                I nodded mutely.  "And … you?"

                Kenji laughed, then sobered when he saw I was serious.  "Ken, I've seen far, far worse things than what happened that day."

                "Then I'm amazed you're not crazy," I said flatly.

                Kenji said nothing.

                "Hidaka-san!"  A chipper nurse suddenly appeared next to the bed.  "You're awake!  Yamamoto-san, for shame.  You promised to tell me when Hidaka-san came to."

                Kenji's smile was fake.  "I'm sorry, _ojou__-san_."

                The nurse began to fuss over me while Kenji left the room like a shadow.  I never did get around to telling him what had happened at the _Kami__ no Kaze_.

*   *   *

                I would never see out of my left eye again.

                The doctors had done their best to reconstruct the eye, but there was nothing they could do for it, and they feared an infection.  I could have a glass eye, if I wanted …

                I turned them down, unable to stomach the idea.

                The _Gladius__ Deum_ stood on a stand in the corner.  They said that when they found me moaning in the waiting room of the hospital, I had been holding the sword to tightly that it took two doctors to pry my grip open.  No one knew how I had gotten to the waiting room, though.

                I was lucky to be alive.  I had lost so much blood they had doubted the transfusions would bring me back.

                Yeah.  Lucky me.

*   *   *

                Youji _was_ good at faking it.  He came by the next day and went on and on about the strange things that had happened on the Day of the Dead.  (I had thought it was the Night of the Dead, but it hadn't seemed to make a difference in Tokyo.)  Zombies had wandered the streets; covens of vampires and witches clashed openly, and Grim Reapers appeared.  And there had been _gaki_ as well.

                "It was a supernatural zoo," Youji said with a shrug.  "When things got crazy, Kenji dragged us off to his weapons shop and we fought from there.  I think he had a bullet or gun for every sort of creature in question!" he laughed.

                I wanted to laugh with him, but I could see how haunted his eyes were.  "Youji … you don't have to pretend with me," I said.

                Youji looked at me quizzically.  "Pretend about what?" he asked.

                "Pretend that … that becoming a vampire hasn't hurt you."

                But Youji only shook his head, smiling.  "Kenken, you're such a mother hen," he joked.  When I sat stone-faced, he sobered slightly, looking down.  "I talked to the Necromancer kid about it," he said to his lap.  "He said that I couldn't do anything about it … that I had to just accept it."  He looked up at me again, green eyes dark with unfathomable feeling.  "I'm trying to do that, Ken.  It's not as if it's changed much of anything …" his eyes went distant.  "But … I can feel your sadness and frustration … and I want to suck it away."  He swallowed.  "And ... and I can hear your blood pounding in your veins."

                I tightened instinctively and tried to control my breathing.

                Youji's eyes focused sharply on me again.  "It's a temptation … but I've lived with that before.  I accept this.  I accept that I am … a psi-vampire.  There's nothing I can do but control this new power inside me."

                But I knew Youji wasn't happy.  Who would be?

                Kenji was right.  He had to figure out how to handle this himself … because he wouldn't let anyone in to help.

*   *   *

                I stood, trembling slightly, in front of the mirror of the private hospital bedroom.  I had to lean on the sink for support.

                Slowly, with my good eye closed, I unwrapped the bandages around my head that were covering the remains of my left eye.

                I gathered my courage and peered into the mirror.  One dark brown eye and one whitish-grayish, uneven one looked back at me.  I shuddered without meaning to and collapsed into my wheelchair.

                I cried in the bathroom for so long that a nurse picked the lock and came in to make sure I wasn't committing suicide.

*   *   *

                It took me about a day to recover from the idea that my eye would always be bizarre and unpleasant to look at, but I couldn't reconcile myself to the idea as a whole.  The doctors said I was fortunate that the muscles around the eye were largely undamaged.  The eye still mostly moved to 'look' in the same direction as my right eye.

                I just felt numb when they explained.  I didn't know what to think, so I pushed it away to occupy a far corner of my mind, mechanically determined to learn how to cope – but never how to deal.

                They warned me that it would take a while to get used to a lack of depth perception.  I kept knocking over the cups of water on the nightstand because I couldn't judge exactly where they were to grab them.

                I was going to recover fully from all my other injuries.  They were a little upset, though, that it took me only 48 hours to go from one hospital stay to another.  After they stitched me up again, they swore I wouldn't leave for two weeks.

                I asked to see Omi.

*   *   *

"Hidaka-san, be careful," my nurse advised me as I wobbled out of my 'chair.  "You're not really strong enough for this yet."  She had wheeled me to the psychiatric ward to see Omi.  

A psychiatric ward.  And I'd always been of the opinion that Omi was the most sane of all of us.  "I'll be fine," I said despite a creeping headache and struggling to deal with my reduced eyesight.  I longed to have Raphael in my body again.  I wanted his confidence.  (And his sense of balance, but that was another matter altogether.)

I opened the door to Omi's room and let myself in.  The first thing I noticed was that it was dark, the lights dimmed.  The second thing I noticed was his empty bed and I panicked before I heard,

"Who's there?"

I winced at the severity of Omi's voice; I winced at the terror in it.  "Omi, it's me.  It's Ken," I said as gently as possible, trying to keep my voice from squeaking.  "Where are you?"

Omi peeked his head out from behind the bed.  "K-Ken-kun?"  His blue eyes were wide. 

I wobbled a few steps forward.  "Yes.  'Ken-kun'.  Omi, you should be in bed."

"Ken-kun, is that really you?"

The doubt in his voice felt like a physical blow.  "Of course it's me!"

"How can I be sure?"

I stopped where I was, staring at Omi's frightened blue eyes just visible over the bed.  My breath rattled in my ears.  "What happened?" I murmured.

                Omi watched me warily.  "I have a shuriken with me, so if you're a _gaki_ I'll kill you," he snarled.

                For a long and horrible moment I wished I could snatch Bel'uah back from Hell and cut its head off for making the youngest of us paranoid.

                "Omi … would a _gaki_ know that you cried yourself to sleep in my arms in a church?" I asked quietly.

                There was no response for a moment.  Then … a broken voice said, "Ken-kun, I need help getting back into bed."

                I sighed with relief and worked my way unsteadily around the bed.  Omi 's lower leg was in a cast, and he winced as he kneeled on the floor in his hospital gown.  His features were pale and wan.  I struggled to help him lift himself into his bed, a blind man helping a lame man.  Finally we managed to get Omi lying on his back in the hospital bed, and I sat on the end, looking at my lap.

                There was an awkward silence.  Omi broke it, saying, "I'm sorry, Ken-kun.  I just …"

                "It's okay, Omi," I said reassuringly, but Omi shook his head furiously.

                "No!  It's not okay!"  Omi trembled with emotion.  "I'm scared, Ken-kun, and I can't be scared!  I hunt the shadows of the night!  I can't be afraid of them." His voice cracked.

                "Omi …" I couldn't think of anything to say.  "Don't blame yourself," was all I managed.

                Omi stared at me.  I grew increasingly uncomfortable until he finally blurted, "Ken-kun!  Your eye!"

                I winced.  "Never mind that, Omi …"

                "N-n-no!  That's … I-I feel like it's looking right through me." Omi shook violently.  "I know I shouldn't feel that way, but I do …" his face crumpled as if he was in pain and he hugged his knees to himself.  "I-I don't know what's real anymore …"

                I felt my throat close up and hot tears sting the back of my right eye.  I pulled Omi to my chest; his hands pushed against my aching ribs in a feeble attempt to get away, but I held on.  "_This_ is real," I said as soon as I could trust myself to speak.  "This – don't pull away! – this won't change.  This hasn't changed for two years."

                I could feel Omi's tears in my shirt, but his sobs, shaking his entire body, were silent.

                I knew it would be a long time before Omi was okay again.  And I decided that I would have to take care to wear sunglasses around Omi until he was better.

*   *   *

                I had nightmares off an on – less often than I had expected.  I managed to avoid ever telling the story of what had happened at the shrine beyond explaining that Bel'uah was gone for good and Yumi was dead.  The only downside was that while everyone else had come to accept Aya's death at my hands, I was … _re-coping_ with the death.

                It was impossible to erase the image of his head being torn off his body from my mind.

                Trust me … it's a pretty disturbing thing to see when you close your only seeing eye every night.  It was a good portion of why I felt constantly depressed.

                Omi was released from the psychiatric ward only two days before I was officially released from the hospital.  Youji visited daily and kept me from sleeping 24 hours a day.  Kenji was there almost constantly, keeping me updated on the real world.  Even Manx stopped by one night to let me know that Persia considered the mission completed, and that he sent his condolences concerning Aya's death.

                Poor Manx; she was the one who got stuck listening to me cuss Persia out before falling asleep from sheer exhaustion.

                We held a little private memorial the day after my hospital release.  It was an appropriately rainy day; we stood on the plot where Aya was 'laid to rest', even though we didn't have his body.  It was a nice ceremony, considering that the last thing Omi knew Aya as was a near-murderer and the last thing Youji knew of him was that he had changed him over.  But everyone somehow managed to focus on the happier memories.

                We weren't far from the apartments, so Omi and Youji walked home together while I stood absently by the empty grave, thoughts running through my head over and over.

_                You were … such a mysterious person.  I never really knew you._

                _I wish I'd managed to save you …_

_                I'll find your sister.  I promise._  I sighed and blinked the rain off of my eyelashes.

                I really did know nearly nothing about Aya.  I always just  assumed he was cold, nasty … mean.  But how much of that was Bethany, and how much of that was really Aya?

                And … he had said that he never wanted to kill me, although he'd come quite close a few times.

                And … now that I thought about it … he always tried to give me fair warning as to how to avoid Bel'uah's wrath.

                Aya had _always_ been on our side.  I had just been too blind to see it.

                I felt the now-familiar sting of tears behind my eye.  I bowed my head and let the tears leak out.

                " … of all people, I didn't expect you to hover here."

                That voice …

                "Is my body really there?"

                I spun around, my mouth hanging open. "Aya!"

                Sure enough, there Aya stood, dressed in his tan casual trenchcoat and hideous orange sweater that clashed with his hair.  He looked at me coolly.  "Who else would be asking you about that grave in such a manner?"

                I just stared at him.  "… Aya?" was all I could say.  I shook my head violently from side to side, unable to process what was going on.

                And he'd spoken without moving his lips.

                I thought for a moment I remembered rushing wind and quiet words.  I grit my teeth and shuddered.  "This … this doesn't make sense … you can't be here!"

                "I am.  Stop wishing that, Hidaka, you might force me to disappear," he said flatly, again without a word passing his lips.

                I realized that I was hoping that this was a dream and that I wasn't going crazy.

                _How did he know that!?_

                "I … sorry.  This is just …"  I struggled to gather my thoughts.  Obviously, Aya didn't think this was anything out of the ordinary, so I had to relax.  There _was_ an explanation.  "Okay.  Okay.  So … you're not dead?"

                "Of course I'm dead," Aya snapped irritably.  "Bel'uah twisted my head right off my shoulders!"  He subsided and his eyes went distant.  "I'm just not ready to pass on."

                I stared at him, not quite swallowing the idea that this was for real – and suddenly noticed something.

_Aya__ wasn't getting wet_.  The rain poured down around him – onto him – but it passed right through him to hit the grass unbent under his boots.

He had no substance.  I instinctively drew back.  "Then you're a ghost?  Are you … haunting me?"

                Aya looked at me again and actually snorted.  "No.  No.  I'm … here to protect you.  You and my _imouto-chan_."

                I blinked at him.  "… any particular reason why?" I managed, too shocked to really argue with the situation.

                Sadly, the pieces fit together all too well.

                Aya looked at me for a long time, his violet eyes gripping me like ice and holding me in place.  He spoke directly into my mind. "Because …

                "… Aya-chan always said to follow my heart's desire."

                The gaze broke off, and I looked away quickly, staring at the grave again.  _What did that mean?_

                "You will protect Aya-_imouto-chan_, won't you?"

                My gaze wandered to my toes.  _Oh.  That … that makes more sense._  "Of course, Aya," I murmured, wholly meaning it.  "I … I'm honored."

                Aya's voice actually strangled with emotion as he 'spoke'.  "Ken … please.  Aya is my sister's name.  Please …

                "Call me Ran."

                When I turned around in surprise, he was gone.

*   *   *

                The weeks following were awkward ones.  Persia attempted to get us a new partner right away, but Omi was still 'together' enough to put up such a fuss (and so clutter Persia's e-mail accounts) that Persia agreed to give us a little time.

                Omi still isn't quite altogether 'with it', although he doesn't have the urge to hit anything he doesn't recognize immediately with a shuriken (which was an early concern, letting him out of the hospital).  And Youji is as good at faking happiness as he ever was.  As his mask gets thicker, it gets harder to see the real him through it.  I think that having such a thick mask is part of the way Youji manages to frustrate me enough to siphon off energy.

                Did I tell either of them about Aya – er, Ran?  No; there was no need to alarm them.  And apparently, Ran is invisible to them anyway.

                Kenji comes by just about every day now to help out at the shop.  He's officially on the payroll of the _Koneko_.  He's almost as good at barking 'If you're not going to buy anything, get _out_!' as Aya – er, Ran – was, and he's – well, to be brutally honest, he's a far better friend than 'Aya' ever was.  After the crises of Bel'uah, he helped Omi get through his trauma whenever I couldn't … and he coped with Youji's devil-may-care attitude far better than my short temper allowed me.  I never see Ran around when he's around, though … I still don't know why that is.

                Because I'd promised to protect Ran's _imouto__, _I went on a search and discovered the one remaining member of the Fujimiya family.  I found Ran's sister at the Magic School Bus Hospital, in a coma.  Ran told me the whole story as we stood there in the room, watching her slowly breathe; he even explained that Bel'uah had promised to revive her if he agreed to help her.

                I gripped Aya-chan's hand in my own and wished as hard as I could for her healing.  I think that maybe … if I do that every day … her eyes will someday open again.  And I leave a fresh red rose from the shop on the nightstand, so it'll be the first thing she sees.

                Life is very different than it was two months ago.  But … we have accepted it.  What else could we do?  Besides … we all managed to adjust to being assassins.

                And not everything is peppered with regrets …

                "Ken-kun?"

                "_Hai_, Omi?" I call to the door, standing and stretching.

                Ran shimmers into existence in the corner of the room.  He does that a lot; I can't help noticing, though, that today he's wearing his assassin gear and carrying his katana.  His katana was shattered at the _Kami__ no Kaze_ shrine, but that certainly didn't stop Ran from creating a spirit sword that was identical in nature.  "He wants to know if you're going going to share dinner with Kenji, Youji, and himself," he says emotionlessly, his lips never moving.  Ran rarely speaks out loud to me – rather, he speaks directly into my head.  It's a bit weird to have your thoughts suddenly and randomly scattered by a 'voice' in your head that's not your own, but eventually you get used to it.  If these past months had proven anything, I believed (and still believe), humans can adapt to nearly everything.

                "Do you want to share dinner with Youji-kun and me?  Kenji-san's over," Omi offers brightly through the door.

                I glare at Ran.  "You don't have to tell me everything everyone's going to say to me," I say irritably before replying, "No thank you, Omi.  I've got … a couple of things to do."

                I can almost hear Omi's wan smile through the door.  "Don't get yourself killed, Ken-kun," he says gently before I hear his feet taking him back down the stairs.

                Omi knows. So do Youji and Kenji.

                "'A couple things to do'?" Ran says with a quirked eyebrow.

                I roll my only eye and slip a pair of sunglasses on, the way I always do when I'm out.  It's less difficult to deal with people when they're not asking how your eye got 'like that'.  Besides, I admit it – it's still a sore subject with me.  I may _never_ tell the others what happened at the _Kami_ _no Kaze_ shrine.  "As if you ever had a way with words."

I throw my leather jacket over my shoulders and shrug into it; I slip my handgun into my inner pocket, sling my shotgun over my shoulder, and heft the _Gladius__ Deum_ from its stand before making my way over to the two-story window.  "See you down there," I say to Ran with a smile before jumping out the window to my motorcycle parked out back.  The air is a little warm with approaching summer, but the sky is clear beautiful, full of stars.

                It's a great night to go Hunting.

                I gun the engine and ride off, laughing at Death in the wind.

So ends the _Dream of Crimson._

May this fic Rest in Pieces.

*   *   *

Author's Notes:  I … I can't believe it.

It's done.

At 1:13 AM, October 2, 2002, the Weiss Kreuz fanfiction _Dream of Crimson_ finally laid to rest.

….. wow.

Well … um.  I guess I want to start out by asking, how did everyone like the epilogue? ^_____^x  I told you Aya was dead … ::grin::

Then, I wanted to say:  Thank you.  Thank you again.  And again.  You have all truly been the best reviewers and the best fans. I appreciate it.  A special thanks to Stephanie for her glowing review, and to Keeshe for her long one … and a huge, huge, HUGE thank you to Silver Angel.  This would never have been possible without her careful guidance.  Want to make me happy?  Go here:  http://namidanomiko.fateback.com/.  Go there the moment you've finished reviewing this fic.  And read Silver Angel's fanfiction.  ^____^x

And … then … the sequel.

It's in the works.  But I need a sabbatical, so you'll all have to wait a while before I get started.  Ideas include:  Holy and Black magic.  RanKen.  Kenji/Ken.  Ken meets Kaori Yamamoto.  Human Keys to magic … all with a little death, angst, and romance thrown in.

^_______________________^x  This will indeed be fun.

Well … thank you all, again.  I can't say that enough.

Please … fanart … email it to me at chan_minako@hotmail.com!  ^____^x  And anything else you want to send, too.

Until next time,

~~Vikki


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